Strike of Twelve
by Baby Got Black
Summary: After murdering her long-time captor, Ginny Weasley is mysteriously sent back in time where she must face his younger self almost constantly. Can she make a difference and change the fate of her world in the future, or will she fall prey in the past? R&R!
1. Midnight Beginnings

**Disclaimer: The world and characters of Harry Potter do not belong to me but to JKR; I am not making a profit off this story nor would I want to. This is purely for fun. I simply own ideas in the plot and any characters of my imagination that you do not recognize.**

_Strike of Twelve - __Chapter 1:_

_It's one of those nights. The type where you sit in a quiet corner and stare into space, remembering the good times and the bad times of the past. The type where you laugh and cry at the same time because someone you loved dearly is now gone; where you want to scream and rage at the one who made your life hell. I had plenty of people to scream over, and plenty more to cry over…_

_Curled up on the cold stone of my cell, I pressed my back against the wall. I shivered from the cold seeping into the torn and worn clothes I have been wearing for the last few weeks. My eyes, I know for a fact, are unblinking and wide. I have perfected the appearance of a woman driven insane. Perhaps I am_ insane now, and that is why I am remembering everything…everyone. Everyone I had not seen since the surprise attack on the Burrow.

_The middle of an Order meeting…the room burst into flames. Harry, Ron, Hermione….my family…__**Harry**_. The screams haunt my dreams to this very night. The fear and terror on their faces rise up out of my subconscious every time I close me eyes. And that is why I perfected my look, my eyes wide so they will never be tempted to close; unblinking so they will never be closed for even a nanosecond. _"Run! Run! Run!"_

A deep shiver runs down my spine. _Harry…_ All of them, so young…_ Coughing came from all directions. No one could see… No one could continue talking… we couldn't __**see**__…Harry…_ Even the members from the First War were captured, or burned to death.

"_Ginevra," croaked a voice._ Sirius. My eyes burned with the need to closed, to see his face and imagine him at a better time. _"Go! Quick… we can't be saved; take the folders to the American ministry… Voldemort must be stopped by someone…"_ …Anyone. That was what he wanted to say. He had died so suddenly, an Avada Kedavra bursting in the window. It had barely missed me. It had hit him though.

Sirius, who had survived Azkaban and had the strength to go through torture day after day. Sirius was the one who was used to no meals, no water for days; he could last here in ways I could not. _His eyes stared unseeingly, glassy, at me. I could see the terror written on my face as clearly as if they were mirrors….mirrors…twins…Fred and George…the twins!_

No! I cannot let that night return to me again. Not tonight. Tonight I need to focus, but it's oh so hard! A year ago tonight was my first kiss with Harry. New Year's eve with the fireworks booming loudly and brightly above us. Everyone else grabbed the closest person to them; Harry was right next to me. I reached up carefully and…._ The room was in flames before Harry had even finished talking enough to order the fire put out. The flames leaped up high as they devoured papers and latched onto clothing. "Har-" the cry tore from my lips as the floor shook and I tumbled to the ground. __**Harry**__…the twins ran from the room, firing jinxes towards the front door…__**Harry**__! No!…He lay dead in front of me. He had been reaching for me, to pull me out of the crossfire._ Go away! I don't want to remember that night!

_Hermione danced carefree in front of us. Luna and I were laughing with our hands clasped as we threw our arms around our own walking encyclopedia. "Mione," Luna said with a giggle, "have we told you how much we love you?"_

"_Not recently," Hermione laughed, hugging us back. I tucked my head on her shoulder with a smile. Since mum died Hermione had been there through everything. She had arranged a proper funeral when there was no time for one; she set up Percy's and Audrey's wedding; helped delivery Fleur's first child, Adelina._

"_Well, we do. You are the best woman on the planet," I grinned, "and I am sure my charming brother would agree." I released her from the hug and shoved her gently into the arms of my brother Fred._

My heart twisted with longing and my eyes burned worse than they ever had before. Tears? Not possible after so long with my eyes dried. I swore to never shed a tear over any of them again. Not until they were avenged. I am not ready to strike, not yet. I couldn't be. Could I? No, impossible. I am too weak, too tiny, too wandless to strike back. I…

"_Look, Malfoy, it's a teeny tiny weasel scared from her den," a coarse voice guffawed in my ear tauntingly. I was held by my hair so high my toes barely touched the ground. Lucius Malfoy smirked in front of me, catching my chin and purring, "No need to be scared. We aren't going to hurt you….if you cooperate."_

"_Go to hell." I spat, voice raw from the smoke from the fire. It still raged behind us. I could smell the burning flesh of the dead, hear the screams of those still inside. Was I the only one taken out?_

"_I vacation there, Miss Weasley," he responds coolly before pointing his wand at my face. "Goodnight, Miss Weasley."_

Everything had gone black after those famous last words of his. I still do not know if I was the only one taken from the burning home. I am never allowed out of this cell, and Malfoy will never reveal anything to me on his 'visits'. Every Monday at midnight I would be graced with his presence and we would 'work for a compromise' for both our situations. His situation is he's in trouble with Voldemort for not having any information on hidden Order members; my situation is being locked in this cell to rot.

"Miss Weasley," the cold voice flies to my ears from beyond the door right to the second. I do not give him the pleasure of responding, not even when he comes in and glares sharply at me. If looks could kill…well, I am already dead, so it would not matter. "One typically greets another back. Shall we have another lesson in manners?"

"_Ginevra," croaked a voice, "Go! Quick… we can't be saved; take the folders to the American ministry… Voldemort must be stopped by someone…"_

"Anyone," I murmured. I lifted my eyes to the man before me; dull brown met malicious grey in a silent battle of will, and Malfoy let me win. A false victory to inspire faith of him in me. It will not work, just as it had not worked the week before nor the week before nor the week before, and so on. "Do you need something, Mr. Malfoy?"

"So you finally decided to talk?"

I stare up at him, "Talking is a waste of breath when done by a filthy blood traitor like me, is it not?" It is time to strike. I can not deny it. Three months, _three months_, since I have walked in the sun, since my friends and family were murdered. My little niece had been inside that house, and this man…I will not even start on this man in front of me.

He smirks, "At least you can learn, unlike your brothers." His words shock me into blinking, and he notices his own small triumph for blinking is as much an expression of dismay to me as crying and begging is for anyone else I hear down in these dungeons.

"I live to please," I say, voice monotonous but the sarcasm is clear in my eyes.

Lucius Malfoy snorts and kneels down in front of me, assessing me. "You have not eaten. Again." he comments. It is one of those odd comments he makes at times, as if he truly cares, when visiting me in my lowly cell that makes me wonder what he was hoping for, for saving me from the fire. A thank you?

"There's no need to," I offered him a shrug of my shoulder.

"No need?"

"Exactly, no need."

"_There's no need to get so worked up," Harry laughed at me, "The Death Eaters wouldn't be able to find us if we stood naked in front of them."_

"_Not an image I wanted," I grumbled, wrinkling my nose. "Shouldn't we check with our spy, though? Something tells me we're in danger! Sirius can feel it, Remus can feel it; Tonks, Mione, Luna, dad, me…we all feel it, Harry!"_

_Harry shook his head and rest his hands on my shoulder, almost like I was a patient in a psych ward. He spoke to me like I could barely understand his language, "No need, Gin. Okay? We are __**safe**__, it's been confirmed You-Know-Who doesn't know where we are. C'mon, we're late for the meeting." Leading me by the hand down into the kitchen, Harry whispered reassurances and I simply sighed at him._

_Entering the room, my eyes sought Sirius's. The light in his eyes faded as he read my message clear: Harry did not believe us. I watched as he turned and whispered the news to Tonks and Remus, and I walked over to Hermione and Luna on the other side of the table. We whispered to each other about how we could convince Harry to heed our warnings; half way through the meeting, I was called on to speak. I stood and opened my mouth, then fire. Flames erupting all over the room, windows blowing in, screams from Order members; shouts to find our way out and quick._

"Ginevra?" I blinked a few times as Malfoy came back into focus, visions of the past fading away once more. His eyebrows were knitted together as he eyed me. "You spaced out again," he commented.

"Oh."

"What do you see when you do?" Malfoy asked, cocking his head in amusement and…was that pity in his eyes? Hurt? "Do you see their deaths? That last night your friends lived? Do you remember what was spoken of at that last meeting?" This was the usual. Him and his would try to drag out information on what the Order had known since someone besides myself supposedly survived and got our records out and to America. I had not been out of here since that night, but I was kept updated; their cruelest form of torture. "Are their faces as hideously pale in your memories as they were when dragged from your burning headquarters; eyes as empty?"

"Screw you," I whispered, lifting my eyes to meet his as I slammed my fist into his gut. He doubled over onto the ground and I brought my other hand out from behind me, a heavy piece of rock I had carved from the wall clasped in it, and slammed it down on his head. "Go. To. Hell. You. Asshole." I punctuated each word with another hit, watching the blood spurt out from the gashes in his head beneath the caving in skull. I dropped the rock as I took in that I just murdered someone. And not just someone, Lucius Malfoy. I murdered my captor, my torturer, and my only visitor.

I scooted away from him and stared. Catching my reflection in a puddle of water, I saw my eyes were wide and wild, crazed; my hair was knotted and curling dirtily around my face and shoulders; my complexion pale and gaunt. I looked insane and felt it, too.

"Lucius?" I whispered at his still form. I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more until I realized I was holding my breath and I was about to pass out. Then I crawled over slowly and patted down his robes in search for his wand. I had to act now. Someone would come in in search of him and see his body, and they would know I killed him. And I would be killed, too. I was so tired though, so very tired; attacking him took all my energy. It was all I had…

His wand in hand, I curled up near his body, only because I was too exhausted to move away from it again, and closed my eyes. For once, I did not see the faces of my family and friends swimming before my eyes.

I opened my eyes to blinding whiteness. That was not expected in a cell underground. I clamped them shut once more, groaning in pain as I rolled over. Then I realized: I was not laying on a cold hard ground, nor was I wearing rags. Gasping in shock, I sat up, eyes flying open and taking in the Hospital Wing. "No…" I whispered. It was a nightmare, a waking dream…something. It had to be.

"What're you….What _are_ you doing up?" hollered a younger Madame Pomphrey in shock. "Lay back down immediately, young lady!"

"Pomphrey?" I asked, staring at her, "Poppy Pomphrey?"

The medi-witch blinked at me. "Yes, yes, that's me." She walked over stiffly and began mixing potions together. As soon as she was in reach, I threw my arms weakly around her, "Oh, I never thought I'd see anyone again!"

"Young lady, remember yourself," she cleared her throat though she was blushing from the obvious compliment. "Lay back immediately, and take your potions there. I shall go get the headmaster."

"Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Dumbledore, child, who else?"

I curled under the blanket and cuddled back into the pillows as the medi-witch departed. I eyed the potions on the table warily; I have had bad experiences with potions given by that witch, and I also could not be sure this was not an illusion created by Voldemort. I was ready to stand up and try to escape, but my legs would not hold me up and I collapsed to the floor. "Brilliant," I muttered at myself, face palming. I laid on the floor and stared at the white ceiling, trying to think up an excuse for Madame Pomphrey when she comes back to find me on the floor instead of in my bed, potions still not drunk on the table.

"Hello?" a voice called, the hospital wing's door creaking open. "Madame P? We got a problem here…"

"She's gone to get the headmaster," I called back without thought. Suddenly three heads popped around the side of the curtain: sloppy black hair that reminded me of Harry with bright blue eyes, shoulder length, curly hair and blue eyes, and sandy blond-brown with brown eyes. They stared at me on the floor in the hospital gown.

"Dude, the rumors were true!" the middle boy said, tossing his long hair back. "Mystery girl does exist."

I scoffed, "Can you help me back onto the bed, then treat me like a observation later?" The brown-eyed boy stepped forward wordlessly and helped me up. "Thanks. I'm… Sleisha O'Connor."

"Sirius Black, at your service, m'lady," the second boy bowed dramatically.

The first boy waved, "James Potter, Miss Sleisha."

The boy who helped me up offered a tiny smile, "Remus Lupin."

I stared at them. James, Sirius, and Remus…three of the four Marauders. The biggest pranksters of Hogwarts history; Harry's dad, godfather, and their friend. All standing in front of me. That would mean…

"What's the date?" I asked hurriedly, heart racing. "How long have I been out?"

"It's September 3rd, 1977," Sirius said, producing a folded newspaper from his bag and passing it to me. Five days ago I killed Lucius Malfoy…or twenty years from five days ago I will kill him. I took the paper and frowned in disbelief at the headlines. Fudge won the seat of Minister of Magic; Dumbledore celebrates his tenth year as headmaster; Lily Evans and James Potter are made Head Girl and Head Boy; Lucius Malfoy is to marry Narcissa Black in less than a year if he doesn't find the "girl of his dream".

Oh. My. Merlin.

"Oh, I'm going to be sick…" I tossed the paper back at him and grabbed the nearest garbage, wincing in pain from the movements. Heaving over the can, my throat burned horribly.

"What are you three doing here?" I recognized that voice! It was McGonagall! "Good heavens. Poppy, I thought you said she was doing better!"

"She was, and I - Good Heavens! You three, out. Minerva, please hand me that vial. She's throwing up blood. Out, Black!"

"But we -"

"Out!"

"But I -"

"Potter, don't make me take points!"

"Madame Pom-"

"No!"

_Harry and I were arguing with Mad-Eye about getting me trained to fight and duel. Mad-eye was more old-fashioned than a woman from the seventeenth century would be. Woman should not be dueling, he said, nor should they even train to._

"_But Tonks is a girl!" I cried determinedly._

_Mad-Eye responded gruffly, "And do you know how often I keep her off of missions? What the auror's office assigns her to do and what I assign her to do are two completely different viewpoints, Miss Weasley."_

"_But -"_

"_No."_

"_Mad-eye, please -"_

"_Potter, you're on my last nerves with this."_

"_I need to -"_

"_I said __**no**__!" He banged a closed fist on the table, making me jump with a yelp as a candle toppled over. I put the fire out quickly and then faced him with my hands on my hips. "Don't be thinking' that look will get what you want, lass. It barely works for your mother on me, it won't be workin' for you."_

"_Mad-eye, will you at least teach me some defensive spells? I can't expect you or some other Order member to drop in while I'm a bloody damsel-in-distress."_

_The ex-auror eyed me up and down and let out a frustrated sigh. "One you will need more often than you think, Weasley, is how to stop internal and external bleeding of any kind. If you are held captive, you will be beaten, under-fed, tortured. This spell can be performed without a wand to heal punctured organs, heal your throat if you eat too much and throw up blood, or are tortured with physical objects."_

_Removing a knife from the counter, he sliced he knife over his wrist and let the blood drip onto the table. "__**Curatio**__." he waves his other hand over the wound and it knitted together before our eyes. I felt my mouth drop, and Harry was staring intently at the markless skin as if the harder he looked the better he would remember the spell._

"Curatio," I whispered to myself, mentally shaking me head to be rid of memories. "Use curatio."

**A/N: Hope you liked the first chapter! This is the first story I've written in awhile so it's different from my usual work (stories I had up on my account as Bewitched Nightwalker, which unfortunately isn't working *sadface*). So please review and let me know what you think!**

**Peace, Love, Happiness  
>~Aiya <strong>


	2. Dwelling On Dreams

Strike of Twelve

**Chapter 2:**

I pushed open the doors to the great hall and entered to find dinner already on its way. My new friends in Gryffindor waved energetically to me, and I nodded a hello. Their energy was causing eyes to turn to me with curiosity. That was never a good thing. I needed to catch as little attention as humanly possible if I was going to blend in. That would be extremely hard already as I was known as the girl who turned up unconscious on the banks of the lake.

"Sleisha!" Sirius called me over. I shook my head over the heads of the Ravenclaws between us and mouthed, 'Dumbledore. Sorry.' as I hurried my steps to the teacher's table.

Dumbledore smiled encouragingly and stood, "May I have your attention? Everyone, please, silence." Stepping around the table, he rest a hand on my shoulder, the other hand waving McGonagall over with the hat. "Miss Sleisha O'Connor is joining us from the Academy of Gaelic and Druid Arts for her seventh year. I hope you all will welcome her, and the lessons she may be able to teach us of the older ways of magic."

"Miss O'Connor, if you please." He smiled again and I sat silently on the stool as the cloth of the hat covered my eyes.

I took a deep breath _Hat?_

_Hello again, Ginevra. Or maybe I should say that in another few years? You are not meant to be here now, are you?_

_No, but please don't say anything._

_Why would I do that? This could prove most interesting. _A soft chuckle made me shiver. The Hat always creeped me out by how knowledgeable it seemed to be. _You were a Gryffindor in your time, but does that fit you now? You've been touched by evil, and you enjoy it at times. Determination to do what you can in this time is evident; and the means you'll use to get to your goal are astounding._ I held my breath and kept my thoughts quiet. The Hat was finally going to sort me fairly, instead of by what house my family had always been in. I was not going to influence it.

_Best be…_"SLYTHERIN!" Soft clapping followed the announcement as the hat was lifted from my head. I pretended to be unsure of which table I was to go to - I _was_ supposed to be a new student and not know anything about the school - and looked to Dumbledore for assistance. He pointed to the table to the far right of the hall, with the green and snake embossed hangings.

I was barely able to suppress a memory as I walked, head high, to the table. My hands shook as I looked over my new housemates, and I had to be sure they were hidden by the sleeves of my robe. Slytherin house was not a place for shows of weakness or emotion. Anything and everything I did, controllable or not, would be held against me later on, and I was determined not to give them anything but my arrogance and sarcasm as fuel.

"Hello," a familiar blond woman said from across the table. Even the beadiness of her eyes was strangely familiar, though I could not place from where. All I knew was that I had a strong distaste for the woman on sight. "I'm Rita Skeeter, and -"

"What's your blood status?" demanded a boy to her left.

"Now, Yorick," Rita chastised playfully, "no jumping straight to the point, it's not attractive." Turning back to me, she smiled coyly, "That's Yorick Zabini, seventh year like us. Ignore him most of the time, nothing intelligent ever comes out of his mouth."

"But plenty other pleasures come from it," he winked at me, and I was ashamed to say I blushed a Weasley red at the obvious invitation. I cleared my throat and raised an eyebrow at him; it was so hard to look dignified when even my ears burned with embarrassment. "Seriously, though, what's your status?"

"Pureblood," I answered without thought. I knew my blood status, and even I, a blood-traitor, would never deny the truth of my heritage. It just was not done. It was blasphemy to even think of denying you were pure if you knew. My obvious pride told these Slytherins that it was the truth, and the topic was dropped to be replaced by a new one.

Rita forked a piece of chicken onto her plate as she asked, "Any family, O'Connor?"

"Is this going to be an all night interrogation, Skeeter?" I countered politely just to ascertain what I was in for as the 'new girl'.

"Will you answer our questions?"

"Depends, how many you have?"

"How many will you be willing to answer?"

"How many would you like me to answer?"

"Sleisha, I like you," the girl finally said, making me blink at the sudden end of our slight bantering.

Yorick looked between us in amusement. "Severus, you owe me three galleons. Rita's finally been beat."

"I was not beat, I simply conceded before our dinner turned into a mockery." she sniffed. I was horribly confused. Were these not Slytherins? Of the same blood, house, and egotistical views as the ones of my time? I could never imagine Draco Malfoy or Pansy Parkinson so good naturedly bantering with each other. It was like a more elegant form of Gryffindor, only with different kinds of players and rules. I could almost compare it to chess - Gryffindors were like wizard's chess with the pieces that yelled and shouted their disapproval and opinions, more concerned with being louder than the other pieces than winning; Slytherins were like muggle chess, more subtle and not giving away their emotions as they "bantered" and weaved among one another for the win.

"Skeeter, I would suggest explaining things to our new housemate before she looks any more confused," the monotonous tone of Severus Snape hit into me like a knife. We had trusted him, and he had killed Dumbledore! We had doubted him, and he had ended up dying to protect Harry - in vain as the Order was all but exterminated that day I was captured, a week after Snape died.

"Here in Slytherin," Yorick shook me from my memory, "you're tested on your ability to keep your own counsel. If you can hold your own against your own housemates, you won't have to against outsiders."

"So I was just tested?"

"In the sense of the word, yes. Usually, Rita is just like this in general, but she is our tester because of how skilled she is at getting others to slip up and reveal their secrets."

I cocked my head slightly, making a small "huh" sound as I thought about more differences of Slytherin from Gryffindor. "Since I passed, that means…what? If anyone from the other houses tries to screw with me, you have my back?"

Snape nodded, "Yes."

"But I'll still have to watch my back around you."

"Of course," Rita smirked, "You got a sharp tongue, Sleisha O'Connor, but you catch on to these things rather slow."

"You have the air of an aristocrat, Rita Skeeter, but you carry on like a swamp hag."

The look that crossed her face was almost comical. So comical that even Yorick and Snape laughed, though I remained straight-faced with a sweet smile on my lips. It was never hard for me to rile up the reporter in the future. She was the same in her teen year, too, it seemed. Her ego was everything, being called out was an anomaly to her; to find a weakness was a must for this girl-turned-reporter, and she could not find mine. She had quizzed me, tried to befriend me, then disguisedly insulted me, and her efforts yielded nothing of my past or myself worth yielding.

I plucked an apple from the bowl in front of me, and before I took a bite I said, "Relax, Skeeter, I was giving you my own test. Pity you did not pass; knowing about me is obviously a big deal for you." Then I stood and gave a cheerful wave, "We could have been 'friends' if I felt you wouldn't air my dirty laundry, as they say; good night. Yorick, will you show me to the common room, please?"

GWLMGWLMGWLMGWLMGWLMGWLM

That first night, I could barely sleep. It had taken so much energy to keep a straight face, to not succumb to the horrors my memories bore. So many times there was a memory bubbling to the surface, and I had to fight it tooth and nail to stop it. I know my dorm-mates thought I was already odd due to Dumbledore's explanation of who I was. A druid witch, a nature witch; I was an anomaly for these 'up to date magic practitioners.' And every time a memory would try to come up, I was positive they could see my eyes become glazed over and distant before sharply refocusing.

I curled up beneath the light blanket as soon as Yorick pointed me in the right direction and I had gotten changed into pajamas provided by the school. I thought of how I would have to get to Diagon Alley to buy my own clothes, and even a new wand. When I had reached into my pocket earlier before dinner, I had found the wand of Lucius Malfoy. I could not keep it. If I ever was to meet him, and I had the exact replica of his wand, it would raise some questions.

"Rita," whispered a voice as the door opened. I kept my eyes shut despite the drapes being pulled closed around my bed, "that new girl is odd. What are we going to do about her?"

"What do you mean, going to do?" Rita's voice was disdainful towards the girl. "She has an attitude, but I like her."

"You _what?"_

"Keep quiet, Macie! You'll wake her!"

I turned slowly onto my back and stared at the ceiling as the girls proceeded to whisper and get changed for bed. The tiny circles of light on the drapes coming from the wands kept me distracted from what they were saying. I'd rather be clueless of their opinions of me than hear everything and lose my temper the next day like I was wont to do.

"_Screw you," I whispered, lifting my eyes to meet his as I slammed my fist into his gut. He doubled over onto the ground and I brought my other hand out from behind me, a heavy piece of rock I had carved from the wall clasped in it, and slammed it down on his head. "Go. To. Hell. You. Asshole." I punctuated each word with another hit, watching the blood spurt out from the gashes in his head beneath the caving in skull. I dropped the rock as I took in that I just murdered someone._

I shuddered convulsively at the sharp reminder of what I had done to the older Malfoy, whose wand rested under my pillow now. Even now I could not find rhyme or reason for my sudden attack on him; he had simply made me mad. He had reminded me. He had taunted me. I did not like being taunted, and being reminded was a far worse sin than that.

_I dropped the rock as I took in that I just murdered someone. And not just someone, Lucius Malfoy. I murdered my captor, my torturer, and my only visitor._

Who knows how much someone - even as vile a man as Lucius Malfoy - could ever mean to them until they are gone? Until that rock left my hand, I had never seen him as anyone but my tormentor. He was my personal Grimm Reaper. But once he was dead, I realized he had been my only lifeline. I never saw it, the connection to the outside world he had offered me each time he visited; I never thought that he had come down so often not only for information, but because he had cared.

_I murdered my captor, my torturer, and my only visitor_.

If I could have realized that he was not only the first two, but also a visitor, I would have been able to place the look in his eyes. The one he got at times when I would say something to make my mental and emotional state clear. He seemed to pity me; I had taken it as disdain.

_I murdered my captor, my torturer, and my only visitor._

_I scooted away from him and stared. Catching my reflection in a puddle of water, I saw my eyes were wide and wild, crazed; my hair was knotted and curling dirtily around my face and shoulders; my complexion pale and gaunt. I looked insane and felt it, too_.

Was I crazy? Quite possibly, most probably. Here I was laying in the past after murdering a man who, in this time, was only a few years older than me. For all I knew, I was dreaming this, and I would awake to alarmed voices and torture for what I had done to his older self.

Sometimes, I could look in a mirror after waking in the hospital wing, and my eyes still hold that crazed, tortured look. I can even feel the expression on my face when I'm upset or stressed. I am afraid that I may never lose that look of insanity; I am afraid someone here may bring out the monster Malfoy had before he died.

I am afraid to close my eyes and see his face as blood poured over his white hair.

I am afraid to close my eyes and reawake in the present time.

Most of all, I am afraid to not close my eyes and become the same _thing_ I had become in those dungeons.

**A/N: Yes, yes, I know it may not be much and may have left you with some questions if you really are curious as to what is going to happen with Ginny in this story. You have permission to yell at me in a review for not giving much in this chapter and for really having half of this chapter being flashbacks to the last chapter and such. :P It was the best I could manage what with stupid Keystone exams at school this week and such.**

**R&R, lovelies!  
><em>Peace,Love, Happiness<em>  
><em>~Aiya <em>**


	3. Prejudice

**Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot and some characters belong to me. If you recognize a name/place/thing/spell/etc then it should be obvious that it was more than likely in the books/movies and therefore belong to JKR and/or Warner Bros.**

**Chapter 3:**

Hermione wore her hair down for her wedding. Her dress was plain and simple, just a white sundress with a heart shaped bodice; but her smile was so radiant no one could say she was not beautiful. With her bushy hair slicked down flat with charms then curled into a river of dark ringlets, her face was framed so elegantly that even a Malfoy would not complain about her looks. Fleur had done it. I never would have been able to.

I, a bridesmaid, walked down the makeshift isle at Shell Cottage before Fleur, the Maid of Honor. We had thrown this together so quickly for my best friend and brother that it was simply the prettiest of the ocean smoothed, white rocks lined up. Our priest was Alastor Moody (how odd, right?) and he was waiting impatiently for Fleur and I to get to our places.

As we turned on our heels slowly to face the cottage, the small congregation of Order members stood and faced with us. Luna played the muggle song of "Here Comes the Bride" on the organ we had transfigured, and the door opened to reveal Remus walking Hermione down the aisle.

This all seemed somewhat odd to me. I had only ever been to one wedding - Bill and Fleur's - and they had done a magically ceremony. Hermione had wanted a muggle one, as a tribute to the muggle life she left behind by wiping her family's memories of her.

So I stood there smiling reassuringly to my best friend and her groom, my brother, and we all acted like there were not extra Order members patrolling the outskirts of the cottage grounds in case of an attack. Fred had eyes only for Hermione, and she for him; and my eyes slid to the best man, Harry Potter, who winked at me and beamed just as brightly.

In the front row, Ron sat with the rest of the family looking sullen. He never got over the fact that he had not asked Hermione out quick enough. She had moved on after still nothing had happened in their fifth year, and Fred had been her shoulder to cry on while she got over his apparent lack of common sense. They dated, secretly, for nearly two years before finally coming out when they thought they would die the night of a major battle. Mum was ecstatic, Dad was so sure there was a mistake, Harry and I knew all along something had been up. Ron had been speechless for nearly a week, a feat for him.

What has me thinking about all this? My muggle studies class. They are learning about muggle marriage ceremonies. No one in this class except Lily Evans and I had ever been to one. The redhead Gryffindor prattled on and on about her aunt's remarriage to our teacher while I daydreamed and remembered my own muggle ceremony.

Had Hermione and Fred really been married only months before their deaths? It seemed so unfair.

"Miss O'Connor," the voice of Professor Burbage pulled me from my thoughts, and I blinked up at the younger version of my old, dead in the future, professor.

"Yes, Professor?"

"You appear to be very thoughtful on this subject, care to share?" her smile encouraged participation from a Slytherin. She would not get in from anywhere else, I was sure.

A glance at Rita making a gagging face confirmed this thought. But the look of hopefulness had me speaking. Charity Burbage could not be older than twenty-four, a new professor at her old school with students not giving a bloody hell what she was saying… It must have been hard.

I cleared my throat, "My, uh, brother married a muggle-born." I hate dhow I had to make sure to project a tone of disgust into that sentence. I heard the whispers start up among Rita and her band of girls. This would be all over Slytherin by lunch. The new girl, a pureblood, has a brother who married a muggleborn! Horrific! "Her family had no idea of our world, as it should be, but my brother wanted her to have the wedding of her childhood dreams. So it was a muggle ceremony performed awkwardly by wizards. I have not gone to an actual one like Evans has."

The stout blond seemed to relax at some participation from my house, and she stood to full height with a bright smile. "Very good. Ten points to Slytherin for participation." she said cheerfully. "Miss Evans, Miss O'Connor, why don't you lead the class in comparisons of what the weddings of your attendance were like? And anyone may jump in to add an opinion or compare it to a wizard wedding."

Lily Evans shot me a look that clearly said that she did not like my tone before, and that she saw me as any other Slytherin. I gave her a sweetly sarcastic smile, "Evans, I do believe the professor asked us to do something. _You're_ the muggle expert, so how about _you_ start?"

She huffed softly and stomped on the foot of Sirius who sat beside her when he laughed into his hand. He held his hands up in surrender and, winking at me, turned to James. "Well, at my aunt's wedding, there was a document to be signed saying they did not want a divorce, ever." Lily supplied after a moment, "Unlike wizard marrying, there is divorce in the muggle world. Though, you can make legal documents saying no divorce."

Murmurs of disapproval swept through the class. Divorce was disgusting to us wizards. It was scandalous. If you were like my family, you would not mind it. Some people just were not meant to be. But most purebloods spit on the word divorce.

"I'm sure _your_ brother and sister-in-law are still married," Lily said, though to me it was obvious she did not care. "Your family probably made sure _some_ magic was imbued in their vows."

I met Rita's eye briefly before leveling a cold, steady gaze on Lily. My face remained eerily passive as I said, "My brother and sister-in-law are dead, Evans. They were murdered." The girl's jaw dropped open slightly and she looked ready to apologize when I added, "By a group of You-Know-Who supporters who were as disgusted by their marriage as many members of my family."

There was truth in my statement. Aunt Muriel, for instance, had sorely disagreed with the marriage. She was by no means bloodest, but she had standards that Hermione did not meet for one of her family. Fred lost his inheritance from her just by proposing to Hermione. And then there was Ron who did not approve of Hermione with his brother; Percy felt Hermione was wasting her skills and talents by being with one of the twins; Dad was supportive but still expected someone to yell "April Fool's!" until after they had said "I do." and he had come to reality.

Professor Burbage looked at me with wide eyes. As if she had not seen a pureblood with pureblood views before! Right.

Luckily, I had been called on late in the class, and the bell rang not even a minute later. I grinned brightly at Lily and gave a finger wave before scooping up my bag and walking to the door beside Rita.

"Your brother really married a mud blood?" Macie asked, coming to my other side once we were out of the classroom.

I forced myself to scowl and say, "Unfortunately. She wasn't even pretty!" Lie. Hermione had been beautiful. "She was _such_ a know-it-all, kind of like Evans only not as annoying." _Sorry, Harry, please forgive me! Your mother is amazing. If only you could meet her instead of me._

Macie made a gagging face to rival the one Rita had given earlier. "That is so disgusting. Mubloods are filth and the nearest they should ever get to one of our own is the bottom of our shoe."

"Or the trays that hold our food." Rita smirked, "Daddy's hoping the Dark Lord comes through and we can replace those incompetent house-elves with mud blood servants."

I could have sworn I saw red. My vision became hazy with anger at that comment. Muggle-borns as slaves? House-elves incompetent? Were the purebloods of this time _blind?_ Even Voldemort had never planned to replace house-elves with muggle-borns in the future! Of course, elves were still far beneath pureblood wizards, but he never thought of them as incompetent. The magic they offered was too valuable to give up around homes like what these purebloods had.

Muggleborns were just witches and wizards, he knew, like us. They had less inner magic, definitely, and could never compare to a house-elf.

I stumbled on a step and my anger faded with shock that slapped me across the face at suddenly feeling like I was dropping. "Bloody hell!" I was caught by Yorick, a few steps below. "On my way to Defense, and I have a beautiful girl throwing herself at me! I think I may just have to ditch."

I blushed and whacked his arm, "Shove it, Zabini. If I was throwing myself at you, you would not even have the time to say you'd be ditching." Wolf whistles sounded from a few boys behind me, who obviously thought I was flirting with the young Italian. "Now, if you wouldn't mind releasing me, I would be ever so grateful."

"Really?"

"No. I just thought I'd be polite before threatening you with one of my strongest curses," I smiled sweetly at him, smile turning to a smirk as his arms disappeared from around my waist.

"It's Friday, Yorick," Rita stepped up, "Are we going to go to Hogsmeade?"

"Probably." He turned his cocky smile to the blond, "Though maybe we can go to Diagon Alley. I told Dumbledore I'd take Sleisha there to get new uniforms and books." All our eyes looked at my clothes. As I was new, I was exempted form the dress code until such a time as getting to Diagon Alley presented itself. So at the moment, I was wearing a black flowing knee-length skirt and a green blouse underneath a borrowed Slytherin robe from Rita.

"Oh, of course! We can stop at Fortescue's for ice cream!" exclaimed Macie happily.

Yorick looked to me again, "Sound good, O'Connor?"

"Brilliant."

GWLMGWLMGWLMGWLMGWLMGWLMGWLM

Walking around Diagon Alley was like dreaming to me. Everything was one memory blurring with the last. I could not stand it, and I was being overwhelmed. When we stopped at Fortescue's for our ice cream, I excuse myself to the loo and had to splash my face with water for nearly ten minutes before my eyes lost their dazed, terrified look in them.

One memory out of all of them to have swamped me was the one I most did not want to remember…

_The shop was crowded with kids and teens alike. The noise was deafening, to say the least, so I stepped outside. I knew I should not have. The Order had rules, and I was breaking one by stepping out into a world overrun with Death Eaters as ministry officials. I just had to __**breathe**__ though. The shop was protected, the street outside it was not._

_I had not even taken a breath before a Snatcher caught sight of me and sauntered over. "'Ello, beautiful," he caressed my arm lightly, "Whatchu doin' all alone?"_

"_I'm not alone." I could only be thankful my voice did not waver. "My family is just inside the shop there."_

"_Really now?" another, bigger, one asked._

"_Really," I lifted my chin at him. "Keep your hands to yourself, filth," I snapped when the first touched my hair, "I am a pureblood witch and you, well, I can just smell the muggle in you." He __**was**__ a half-blood. I could not smell it, but the Order knew all of this from files collected by its members._

_We also knew to admit to our blood status and claim it as our right, to keep safe._

_I grew angry when a hand closed on a fistful of my hair. I struck out, "I said, __**hands off**__, you scum!" The man, who I recalled being named Burris, fell to the ground holding his privates. I tossed my hair arrogantly, "If you ever lay hands on a pureblood witch again, I'll be sure to report you. Would you like to lose your Snatcher license, and not get any money for your living?"_

"_No, missus," the bigger man, Ewell as his file said, held up his hands. "Me part'er di'n't mean nothin' by it. 'E was just bein' careful, missus; we be havin' plenty o' mud bloods claimin' purity."_

"_Well, I am not one of them," I snapped._

"_We…can't be sure.." Burris hissed as he moved to grab me. Barely an inch from my arm, his hand was gripped by someone else's in such a tight grip he screamed. He screamed as if he was being tortured._

"_The girl claims her purity rights, and you plan to assault her like she's a mud blood?" the cool voice of Lucius Malfoy made me cringe. His eyes were hard as he looked down at the Snatcher._

_I backed up, eyes flying to the windows of the shop. My family stood there looking with fear in their eyes, our friends behind them. Children were hugged closely to their parents as if Malfoy would turn on them and kill them just for witnessing his intervention._

"_M-Mr. Malfoy," I stammered, "It is quite fine. I had it handled, thank you." His eyes turned to me in half amusement. "I __**did**__," I defended despite him having said nothing, "You don't owe me anything, least of which protection."_

"_I shall remember that, Miss Ginevra," he said, releasing Burris's hand. "Ewell, please escort the lady into the shop to her family. Make no arrests if there should be Undesirables in there, this is their warning to stay out of public if they do not wish to be caught. Ginevra, I suggest you not look or step outside again."_

_I was well aware that if I did not go back inside, I would be taken, as I just turned down Malfoy's protection flat out. So I allowed Ewell to lead me by the arm to the door, and he shoved me, none too gently, in. I huffed and glared at him so darkly, he was cowed by it and apologized profusely before stepping back out._

_I was instantly surrounded by family. "Was I alright?" they asked, and I simply said, "Yes." to each of them. Mum pulled me close to her and squeezed the breath out of me; and I looked out over her shoulder, into the street, to see Burris and Ewell hanging from a shop sign by their innards, not even fully dead. Yanking away, I got sick right there in the middle of the crowd. I would never be rid of that image in my head._

"You alright, young lady?" an elderly woman patted my shoulder. I jumped and whirled to face her with a yell. The lines around her green eyes crinkled in worry, "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry. I did not mean to startle you."

"It's fine."

"You just seemed so lost in a horrible thought."

"I'm alright."

"It looked like you were going to be sick -"

"Thank you, ma'am," I interrupted her and smiled, "I'm quite alright. I just had a horrible brain freeze. Well, if you'll excuse me, I must get back to my friends." I stepped past her and shoved the door open, nearly running down the hall to the front of the store. That old woman had been…odd. She reminded me of someone. I just did not know who, and it almost felt like a major case of déjà vu.

I slowed to a walk as I saw the sunlight from the front windows, and I did a refreshing charm on myself to I would not look like I just ran a marathon getting away from the old woman. Stepping out, I saw Yorick walking with the tray of our ice cream and I came up beside him, taking the tray.

"You were gone awhile," he commented, refusing to release the tray. I rolled my eyes and pried his hand off before saying, "Some old woman stopped me to talk about the weirdest things. Maybe I'll tell you sometime."

"Maybe?"

"They were quite weird things."

He smirked, "Can't you tell me about these things now?"

"No," I set the tray on our table, "not with everyone around." I slid into a seat, snickering at the look on his face when he realized the only other open one was on the other side of the table.

Macie pouted. "What can't you tell us, Sleisha?"

"Some old lady talked to her about 'weird things', she says," Yorick shook his head. He kicked me under the table and I scowled at him.

"Must we resort to Gryffindorish behavior?" demanded Rita uselessly. He was already loading a spoon-full of ice-cream and aiming. Macie and I shrieked, "Don't you dare!" as he let it fly. I ducked and pulled Macie with me; there was a cry from behind us, and when we looked, I felt the blood drain from my face.

I was not the only one to turn pale as snow at the sight. I was just the only one to do so for my reason.

We were seated outside, so obviously there were passer-bys. But it had not entered Yorick's head that he might miss me and hit one of them. Standing a few feet out into the street was a fancily dressed woman, a tall intimidating man, and a young, twenty-three year old Lucius Malfoy. The man and woman were obviously his parents, and the ice cream all over Mrs. Malfoy's blouse was obviously Yorick's.

"Who did this?" she cried in mortification, "Who would dare?"

No one moved.

"Abraxas!" she wailed at her husband. I could not stand it; I grabbed a napkin and climbed, inelegantly, over the railing and ran over. I said hurriedly, "I am _so_ sorry, Mrs. Malfoy! Really, we all are. We were playing around, and I do not think it entered Yorick's head that he'd miss me." I lamely passed her some of the napkins and dabbed at her shirt with the others. She stared at me like I had two heads as I rambled on about how sorry we were.

"Penelope, do the girl a favor and say something," Abraxas Malfoy's voice rumbled with laughter, "She's falling all over herself in mortification of hers and her friends' actions."

My face felt hot as I stepped back and ducked my head. "Mrs. Malfoy, we are terribly sorry for this." I murmured.

I heard her sigh and glanced up. She was eying the stain on her blouse critically, "I guess it is a good thing the house-elves are miracle workers with this material or else it would never be wearable again. What is your name, girl?"

"Sleisha O'Connor, ma'am," I answered, meeting her gaze. "I'm a seventh year at Hogwarts; I attend with them over there. Yorick Zabini, Rita Skeeter, Macie Underwood are coming over right now."

The elder Malfoys turned to address the familiar faces. I was practically forgotten. Forgive and forget, I guessed. But the feeling of being watched was bugging me, so I looked around and met the eyes of Lucius. "Yes?" I asked him.

He replied, "I've never heard of you before. Since when do you attend Hogwarts?"

"Since a week ago when I transferred," I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "It is quite possible for students to do so."

"Is it? I thought transfers were forbidden after that group from Durmstrang came over in 1959." was his candid reply. I cocked my head at him. I never heard of that event of history.

Before either of us could reply, Mrs. Malfoy was saying to her son, "Lucius darling, I must go buy a new shirt, and your father has business to discuss with these three. They say they were supposed to be taking Miss O'Connor for school robes and books. You wouldn't mind taking her, would you?" She then smiled at me, "We'll charge everything to the Malfoy account, as a thank you for trying so hard to save my blouse. Not even Yorick would have owned up to the damage."

"Oh, Mrs. Malfoy, I couldn't possibly -"

"Nonsense, dear." she patted my cheek. "We're all purebloods here, the money won't be wasted on filth."

"But -"

"If you don't accept, I will feel positively awful about it."

"Mother," Lucius was scowling, "if she does not want the money, then why force it on her. Do you want an escort or not?" The last was addressed to me, and Rita was practically begging me with her eyes to accept. It made sense as she silently begged: they were the Malfoys, and to turn down anything they offered would be an insult to them. And insulting a Malfoy was the _last_ thing any pureblood would want to do.

"Alright…If it means that much to you," I finally smiled at Mrs. Malfoy, "I would not want your feelings hurt by my refusal."

Mr. Malfoy nodded at me. He approved. Lucius rolled his eyes and offered his arm. With hesitation, I took his proffered arm and let him lead me down the crowded street. I looked over my shoulder at Yorick for help, but he was glaring at Lucius's back.

What was that about?

**A/N: WOOT! 3,873 words! Yes! My longest chapter in over a year! xD I'm so proud of myself, haha.**

**BUT! I need reviews or I'm not continuing the story. I want at least 3 reviews on this chapter or you'll be waiting for a long while for the next chapter. I NEED the feedback, guys. Literally. I don't know if you like the story or not if you don't tell me that you're at least still reading it and waiting for the update. That's all you have to put, too! "I'm really enjoying the story! Update soon!" or "I don't like...(blah blah blah suggestions blah blah). Can't wait for you to update and see what happens." or something like that, depending what you have to say. **

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**Love Yas!  
>~Baby Got Black<br>Aiya~ **


	4. Impressions

**Chapter 4:**  
>I did not say one word on the way to Madame Malkin's despite the obvious efforts to get me to speak by Lucius. He tried everything possible to try in public. He asked me casual questions, demanded a response, and even went to far as to lean in close as if the proximity would startle a word or two from my lips. He was sorely disappointed when all I did was turn my head and raise an eyebrow at him in amusement.<p>

Then I had ducked my head in embarrassment as the flash of a camera went off. He seemed angered that a reporter had been close enough to get a picture of him, but it did not seem to bother him that from where the reporter was his picture would have the appearance of me being kissed by the young heir.

I still said nothing to him.

"May I help you?" Madam Malkin kept her head down as she turned a page of paperwork, only knowing she had customers by the tinkling of the bell above the door.

Lucius led me further in, "Yes, we need school robes." His voice did the trick, and the woman was ramrod straight, attentive.

"Mr. Malfoy! What a pleasant surprise! Yes, yes, of course. I thought you were out of school, though?"

"I am, she is _not_."

I waved a hand to get her attention. "Hi." I said, "It's a pleasure to meet you; I'm Sleisha _O'Connor_, and I transferred to Hogwarts from my school in Ireland." I guess the emphasis on my new last name was enough. The O'Connors were not heard of often in my own time, but before the extremity of the First War took place, the O'Connors were more plentiful than the Weasleys. They were the most respected of the purebloods in Ireland, and were high enough up in rank and wealth to associate with the Malfoys in England.

Madam Malkin clapped her hands in delight, "Oh, how wonderful! Such a lovely addition to Hogwarts, you are, Miss O'Connor. Please, this way and I shall get your measurements." The woman did not take my hand as she did when I was younger, in the future, and in her shop, but led me by a gentle hand on my shoulder. She even dared to shoo the young Malfoy so he would release my arm and stay out of the back. "You may come back_ after_ I get her measurements, Mr. Malfoy. Propriety rules, you understand."

He seemed not to give a damn, but said "Of course." before Madam Malkin led be through the door to the dressing rooms.

"Up on the stool, Miss O'Connor," she motioned a hand. I smiled and climbed up, "Sleisha, please, Madam Malkin."

She acted like I had not spoken and just went on searching for her measuring tape. When she found it, she said, "Arms up, Miss O- Sleisha." Arms dutifully up, the woman made quick work of measuring every part of my body with a quick flick of her wand. I wondered at the absurdity of measuring my legs for a school uniform, but it was clear when she summoned a whole rack of clothing. "You'll need newer, fashionable clothing, too, of course. The Irish styles are just not acceptable here in England. No offense, Miss."

"None taken?" I blinked as she opened the door and called Lucius in. He came in looking bemused by the look on my own face. "How long will this take?"

"Well, the shade of your hair complicates things, but if we can find the right colors it should be but an hour. We'll avoid pinks and reds, and greens are out unless you wish to look like a Christmas decoration all the time."

I placed my hands on my hips with a huff, blowing my bangs from my face. Lucius's lips twitched and all he offered up was, "Perhaps we should get her a gown for the Christmas Ball in December. You can never order one too soon."

"You -" I glared daggers at him as Madam Malkin excused herself and dashed from the room for dresses as well. I took a calming breath and closed my eyes. He just won, I spoke to him. Just one word, but it was spoken to him. Opening my eyes slowly, I said, "Why'd you do that? I don't have the patience to stand here for an hour, Malfoy, let alone how long it will take for this now."

"Just helping," he smirked.

"Or just trying to piss me off." I retorted, "Which you are accomplishing very well. I am not charging all of this to your family account, I will _not_ be in your debt. You may leave, your duty as my escort is done." _Please, please leave. Can you not see that I hate you so much I murder you in twenty years?_

"My mother will be very hurt by such a rebuke towards me," was his only reply as the store owner came back in.

"Everything alright?" she asked.

I plastered a believable smile on my face and nodded, "Of course. What colors do you have?"

The woman was off. She prattled on about not being sure if my hair was a pure auburn or a light auburn, so we would have to try the varying colors. "With your eyes and hair, you could wear olive greens, gold, beiges and browns or marine, violets and aqua blues. Shall we do the ball gown first, or your uniforms?"

"Uniforms."

"Dress."

I scowled at Lucius and he met my gaze head on. "The gown first, Madam Malkin," he said without looking away. I sighed and gave an impatient sigh of agreement.  
>She needed no encouragement and spelled a dress onto me. I could not help but blush a little bit. I always hated those kinds of spells. I felt like I was naked for a few seconds between my clothes disappearing and the new clothes appearing on my body.<p>

"Beautiful!" exclaimed the clerk. Of course she would. She just wants a sale.

I don't even look in the mirror. It feels too tight on me, I would never be able to breathe. "No, next, please." She looked put out but waved her wand and changed the dress.

Lucius stood and walked over. Madam Malkin was about to protest as he stepped up onto the platform with me, but her mouth clamped shut on her words. A Malfoy does what a Malfoy wants. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me, gently, to face the wall of mirrors behind me. "At least look at the dresses, O'Connor, else you will hurt the poor woman's feelings." he whispered against my ear. I suppressed a shiver and shrugged his hands off me with a glare at him in the mirror. Backing up off the platform, he held his hands up in apology.

The gown really was beautiful. But a glance at the price tag, hanging noticeably on the front, told me it was too much for my budget. I may have the O'Connor name and look, and the family may have been old friends with Dumbledore and given me their vault number, but I would never spend so much on one item. It was over 200 galleons!

The gown was a blue-black color, strapless. Intricate silver patterns wrapped around under my breasts and up the left side of my leg and waist. White lacing peeked out from under the silk. (http:/ www. qvogue. com /wp-content/ uploads/ red_wedding_ ) It was beautiful. It was too expensive for me to buy.

"May I?" Lucius asked as he stepped forward again. I could not object before he was behind me and lifting my hair up to look like it was pulled up into a ponytail of curls. He motioned a hand for Madam Malkin to come forward, and in a moment I saw in the mirror that she had a black case. Inside was a black diamond necklace and chandelier earring set.

I gasped, "Oh, no! I can't possibly…no, really, Malfoy. I can't afford the gown, the uniforms, and the jewelry. My parents gave me a strict budget."

"Consider this my mother's gift to you."

"For handing her napkins?"

"I never said," Lucius laughed, "that it was a smart gift. My mother likes to repay favors any way she can, and the only possible way she will is through money. She will be insulted if you spend less than 200 galleons on your shopping."

I eyed him in the mirror as he draped my hair over my shoulder. He took the necklace and laid it gingerly against my skin, clasping it. I inhaled deeply, watching the crescent diamond rise with my chest, between the swell of my breasts. "This is much more than 200 galleons, Malfoy," I said weakly. I could see the familiar look in his eyes, he was determined to win. He had that look a lot before I murdered him.

"It's merely 400, O'Connor, it is not_ that_ much."

"It's _double_ what your mother would have me use!"

I got an eye roll in reply. "The jewelry is a gift from me."

"For _what_, my I ask?"

"Just because," he shrugged his shoulder elegantly. "Madam Malkin, this will be charged to the Malfoy vault. I'm sure you have our numbers on file?"

I had forgotten the shop owner completely. I turned to look at her, clearing my throat embarrassedly. The look on her face as she looked between Lucius and I was…bloody hell. Between her experience with us together and that reporter's snapshot, I would be headlined as Narcissa Black's competition. The look disappeared from her face and she smiled, "Of course. Excuse me."

Leaving the room, she shot one last curious glance our way. I groaned once the door was shut. "Why'd you do that?" I nearly whined. "She's going to think you're… _courting_ me or whatever the hell they call it these days."

"Will she?" He mulled over that thought, or pretended to.

"Yes, she will!" I spun to face him. I was getting a headache from trying to watch him in the mirror while feeling him right behind me. "And everyone to see the picture you _allowed_ that photographer to get will think so, too!"

With a shake of his head, he smirked, "You are trying to be smart and figure something out. O'Connor, I know your family, and no one in it is smart or even close to smart. They are pure and wealthy, and they get by on that alone."

I floundered soundlessly before hissing out, "Excuse me?"

"You're excused." Lucius said. He turned on his heel and walked to the rack, "All of these are your size. Just go through and find ones you like. Malkin never would have needed to keep you here an hour, in truth. The gown and jewelry are paid for already. Should I wait for you and take you back to your friends, or can you prove competent enough to survive all alone?"

"I am perfectly capable of surviving 'on my own', you unbearable _ferret_," I snapped with a huff. "Thank your mother for me, please, but you can go straight to hell."

"I -"

"Vacation there?" I interrupted, and the look on his face was hysterical. I was sure up until this day, no one outside his family had ever cut him off. "Do everyone a favor and stay there."

I gathered up the skirt of the dress and climbed down from the platform. Grabbing my wand, I changed myself back into my borrowed clothes from Rita, and hung the gown carefully across the chair in the middle of the room. Lucius did not move in the two minutes it took for me to do so, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "What? No comment? No retort from the_ famous Lucius Malfoy_, who has never before been insulted by a woman?"

"I would not consider you a woman," his eyes went over me. Obviously, I was a woman by how and where his eyes lingered, but his expression was always amused.

"I am more of a woman than you've probably _ever_ encountered." I spoke thinking of what I went through. I was raised and grew up in the Second War. I lived and fought during the era of so much fear it would go down in history as the darkest, deadliest era the wizarding world has ever experienced. And he had the nerve to tell me I was not a woman? I was more of a woman than he was _ever_ a man.

I smiled and waved at him. It was his dismissal from my presence, from the room. And I was amazed when he left in stride, as if _he_ had dismissed _me_.

GWLMGWLMGWLMGWLMGWLM

"Hey," I dropped down into the booth beside Yorick in the Leaky Cauldron. He and the others looked up at me, then down at my bags. "What?"

"What did you buy with the Malfoy's money?" Yorick asked stiffly.

I answered honestly, "Nothing." There were shocked gasps from the girls. "He offered to buy me a gown for the Christmas Ball, and some jewelry. But after he left I told Madam Malkin to cancel the order. It may just be me, but I don't want to owe the Malfoys anything."

I could feel the tension leave Yorick's body more than see it. To anyone else he appeared to be calm, but sitting beside him you could feel his reactions. I poked his side and gave him a questioning look when he turned to me. He just shook his head at me. What had I done wrong? Yorick seemed to hate Lucius, and now it was like he was angry with me for even going with him in the first place; I poked him again and concentrated on getting my eyes to hold that demanding look the Malfoys had in my time.

"How… _Why_ did you cancel the order?" Macie asked in mortification.

Yorick snapped, "She just gave her reason. And it is good enough. No one would like to be in debt to any other family." I rested a hand on his arm and added, "Lucius Malfoy and I do not get along. Old tensions between our families that I'm sure Mrs. Malfoy did not know about when she offered."

This settled Macie, but I could recognize the look in Rita's eyes. It was one that came out very often during my third year. Every time she came to realize there was a secret, or story, to follow up on her eyes would glint and sparkle with mischief. Her eyes reminded me eerily of the beetle her animagus form would become.

"Are we ready to go back to school?" I asked them to change the subject.

Yorick shook his head, "You guys go on. I have an errand for Mr. Malfoy to run." He nudged me gently and I scooted out of the booth. He grabbed his one bag from the potions store and left without a word.

"Well, um," I stared after him, "bye?"

Macie sighed, "It's starting again."

"What?"

"I know," Rita shook her head, "You would think that after last year Yorick's father would give him a break."

"What's going on?" I asked lamely.

"Don't you know?" the blond reporter-to-be raised a sculpted eyebrow. "Even in Ireland, it had to make the news."

I hesitated, "My family tends to stay away from English news. Too much drama and corruption of magic, my parents said." I looked between them, "What should I know?"

"It's not our place to tell you if you don't know," Macie stood and headed for the fireplace. Rita nodded her agreement and reached down to help me with my bags. I sighed but followed silently; stepping into the fire, I threw down the Floo powder and yelled, "Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade!"

_Two days later:_  
>"Sleisha!"<p>

I was walking around the lake with Rita and Yorick when I heard my name being called. I did not want to turn around and face the one calling me. It was odd how quickly someone's opinion of one could change so easily. Sirius had gone from excited I was here, to hating me for being Sorted into the snake pit, to acknowledging my presence politely.

"Sleisha!" he called again as Yorick put an arm around my shoulders to lead me away. "SLEISHA!"

"_What?_" I whirled around, "What could you possibly want, Sirius, that you can't take the hint that I'm not in the mood to talk to you?" I probably should not have been so nasty towards him. He was just trying to talk to me. But today was not my day, and that was why Yorick had been determined to keep me unbothered.

"Whoa," Sirius held up his hands, "Sorry to hit a nerve by wanting to say hi and ask how you are."

I rubbed my forehead, "No, I'm sorry. I'm just very stressed out right now. I got a letter from my parents at breakfast.."

"Yeah," he nodded, "I saw that. You left pretty quick, I didn't get to ask what happened."

Yorick sneered over my shoulder, "Like it'd be any of _your_ business, Black."

"Zabini, shut y-"

"Sirius, go back to your friends," I cut him off before a fight over me of all people could start. "He's right. It's _not_ your business. It's no one's business outside of my housemates that are my friends, if I wish to share it with them."

"You heard her, Black, get lost," Rita smirked.

After Sirius turned on his heel and left, I turned to them with hands on my hips, "You two are horrible! He was just checking on me."

"He's a Gryffindor, and a blood-traitor. You Irish families need to get back into the loop of family happenings. Sirius Black was disowned for running away last year, to live with the Potters." Yorick's lip curled in distaste. "Saint bloody Potters… They don't deserve the wealth they have after how Charles Potter turned his back on his family traditions."

"You take it pretty personally."

"Charles Potter was supposed to marry his aunt," the blond offered as explanation, "It was all over the gossip magazines about how he left her at the alter to elope with her best friend, who was already pregnant with James Potter, airhead extraordinaire."

"Damn." I muttered, "So Potter's basically a bastard child?"

Yorick lightened up a bit and laughed, "You could say that. He was born a few months after his parents eloped, but as he _was_ conceived out of marriage, and the marriage was not exactly _legal_, he would be a bastard child in any respectable pureblood's eyes."

"Good to know."

Rita hummed, "While we're on the topic of scandal, did you read about Dorothy Sumter? She's supposed to be marrying Charleton Greengrass at the end of the month, yet she _totally_ went after Lucius Malfoy yesterday. There were pictures of her throwing herself at him and trying to kiss him!"

I scowled, "That's disgusting and degrading. To throw yourself at a man who quite obviously would not want you, especially when you're engaged to another, is low and.."

"As disgusting as mud-bloods?" she offered. I nodded my agreement.

"Why any woman would want to be involved with Malfoy is beyond me," growled Yorick.

"What happened between you two?"

"Nothing."

"Yorick Zabini, I'm not an idiot! You'll tell me what the bloody hell happened, or you'll be the first here to experience my bat-bogey hex." I snapped impatiently. "I tell you practically everything about my relationships with other people, but I don't know a damn thing about yours."

Yorick leveled his eyes on me with a glare. "I don't have to tell-"

"Oh, yes you do. Because if you don't, I think I will just go and join Sirius with his Gryffindor friends. It won't shame me, I'm used to muggle-borns and filth thanks to my brother; it will shame Slytherin, and you and Rita as you're the ones who speak to me." We stared at each other. He expected me to break eye contact first, as a woman facing off a man; I expected him to break contact first to protect his pride from being tarnished when me, his friend, joins the Gryffindors.

"It's nothing." he said finally, looking out at the lake. "Lucius and I just don't mix. Haven't since we were real young. I don't know why, but we don't. And little things just make it worse."

I looked at Rita. She seemed tense with the line of conversation, and I wanted to know why so badly I almost asked. She must have been rubbing off on me. Refocusing my gaze on Yorick, I silently told him that I would ask for more detail later, and he better give it to me. No way was I going to not know every factor of how these people became who they were in my time: How did Lucius Malfoy become a cold-hearted bastard even to his son? How did Bellatrix Lestrange turn insane even before Azkaban? Why did this man in front of me die before his son was even born? What kept Rita motivated to ask questions and become a sleazebag journalist in the future? Who condemned Lily and James to death, besides Pettigrew, when telling Voldemort about the prophecy?

All these questions, and I most likely had a limited time to find out the answers. The sooner I discovered the secrets, the sooner I could change them. If I was to change the past… imagine how much brighter the future could be. My family would still be alive, my friends would not be in hiding, Voldemort would not be in power, and I would not be a murderer.

"I see," I finally said, nodding. "Will I ever be able to know what the original dispute was?"

He just shrugged a shoulder at me, "Possibly. Come on, let's go get some dinner. I'm starving."

Snorting, Rita teased him about just wanting to shove something in his mouth so he could not talk anymore. And all the way to the castle, I heard them bicker back and forth, a smile tugging at my lips. They may have been Slytherins, but they acted like my two fellow chasers for the Gryffindor team, Demelza Robinson and Dean Thomas. They had always been 'debating' over one thing or another, even going so far as to do it during games as they passed the quaffle.

Motivation to get worked up and win, they said.

Flirting to get one to ask the other out, we - rest of the team- said.

We were right.

"You two should just go make out in a broom closet and relieve all this sexual tension you have for one another," I said lightly as we opened the front doors. I heard Rita gag on air and Yorick stopped to stare at me. I grinned impishly at them and continued walking towards the Great Hall, and I found our regular seats. It was a big accomplishment for me as I could never remember where we sat.

I nodded to Snape a few seats away, "Evening, Snape."

He looked up in surprise but returned the nod, "Evening, O'Connor." His eyes caught on the dumbstruck pair I left behind, and his lips twitched, "What did you do to them?

They look like the giant squid just tried to kiss them."

I laughed. Odd, never thought I would see the day Severus Snape made me laugh. "I told them they should try to relieve the sexual tension between them," I smirked over my shoulder as Yorick claimed his spot. "I believe they're in shock."

Snape shook his head. I could tell he was amused though, despite his gloomy exterior. Rita pouted at me from across the table, "That wasn't very nice, Sleisha."

"If I wanted to be nice, I'd join Hufflepuff or Gryffindor," commented I lazily. How easily those remarks came! "I'm sorry," I feigned sincerity.

"Yeah right, stupid bint," Yorick muttered, elbowing me lightly.

"Now that wasn't nice." I pouted.

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in my updating! I had one helluva hard time with my final exams for school, then I got sick, then I had summer camp and family stuff come up. So, so, so sorry! Please review, they are my inspiration! I want at least 3 reviews on the chapter before I'll update again. :)**

**_Peace, Love, & Happiness,_  
>~Aiya~ <strong>


	5. Gossips & Escapes

****_A/N: I'm not too happy with this chapter, but I thought I should update the story with it anyways. It's been awhile since I updated; I've spent nearly a month just trying to edit this chapter and make it really good. It irks me, though, and I can't get it to flow right. *sigh* Oh well, i hope you enjoy it anyway, my darling readers. Please, please, PLEASE leave reviews! At least one saying "Good job" or something will do; I want at least 3-5 reviews for this chapter._****

****_~Baby Got Black::  
>Aiya~ <em>****

******Chapter 5:**

The next few months flew by like it was only a few days. It was shocking to me, really, when I looked back on how I spent my time. Classes, meals, sleeping, hanging with Rita and Yorick, remedial potions with Snape (the last two weeks), and finding myself fighting with the Gryffindors like I was really a snake. I had turned into one of the Slytherin girls I used to hate in my time; acting like I was better for being pureblood, insulting others as I passed them in the corridors, having only a few tight knit, trust-with-my-life friends.

Where had my inner Gryffindor gone? Oh, right. She was off trying to learn about the Slytherins so she could change the future and save the world. Bloody brilliant plan, by the time the Ginny in me learned anything useful, the sophisticated Ginevra - known as Sleisha - would have taken over my body and mind and not wish to change anything.

I was getting nowhere and it was already December. I had three weeks until the Christmas holidays when I would have to face the Malfoys again. And if my memory served me right, this coming New year's Eve was one of the biggest and worst attacks of the First War. I would never learn enough to stop it! Merlin!

"Sleisha," Macie greeted excitedly as she dropped her books on the table. I looked up curiously. We were in the middle of the common room, a place where such spectacle-causing behavior was a no-no. "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" I closed the book I had been _trying_ to read and plastered a look of calm eagerness on my face.

She took a paper and pretended to fan herself, "_Lucius Malfoy,_ that's what! Narcissa Black may refuse to marry ! It's the biggest scandal, it seems, and it includes _you._ How could you not tell me you kissed him?"

"I did no such thing!" I said, eyes widening in shock. Then I recalled the photographer that day in Diagon Alley. I had been surprised and relieved when I found it had not been published. Probably Abraxas Malfoy stepping in and protecting his contract with the Black family, or something. I had not complained, though.

Macie laughed, "Like hell you didn't! Apparently, some intern for the _Prophet_ was cleaning out her mentor's files and came across the photo. He had marked it as unprintable due to publishing and liability laws or something legal-like."

With a flourish, she produced a current edition of said newspaper and opened it to the front page of the gossip section. I sighed in exasperation and despair as I took it and read the article beneath the photograph out loud:

"_**Malfoy Heir's Secret Affair?**_

_Lucius Malfoy, 23, soon-to-be Lord of Wiltshire and heir to the Malfoy fortune and estates (_876,800 acres, to be exact)_, betrothed of Narcissa Black, 21, had been rumored for almost a year to have a secret fling going on. Mr Malfoy had a tendency to show up to public events and charities __**dateless**__ despite his betrothed attending the same events. Never would he leave with another woman, nor had he ever strayed to the youngest Black's side. When asked in interviews, the young heir would deny any existence of an affair._

_But then who is this woman caught with him?_

_Sources tell us that a young, Irish heiress has made her way to England. In September of this year, Sleisha O'Connor, now 18, of the Irish O'Connor purebloods, soon-to-be Lady of Erne, heiress to the O'Connor-Weasley fortune and estates (_40,386 acres throughout Ireland)_, is spending her seventh year at the renown school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Miss O'Connor was unavailable for an interview, but Mr Malfoy denies having any connection to the heiress before that day._

"_So, you just go around kissing every beautiful, pureblood heiress you meet on the streets, then?" asked the interviewer, Karisma Skeeter, last week._

_The Malfoy heir kept his silence on the details of the picture. This fact raises these questions: How did Sleisha O'Connor and Lucius Malfoy come to be so intimate if they had never met before that day? Is the O'Connor heiress the longtime secret mistress of the betrothed Malfoy heir? What does Narcissa Black think about this? And, lastly, what of the Lord and Lady Malfoy's thoughts?_

_When 'undercover', this reporter went around Diagon Alley questioning clerks. Florean Fortescue of _Fortescue's Ice Cream_ described how Miss O'Connor rushed to the aid of a distressed Mrs. Malfoy. Trying to impress a hopefully soon-to-be mother-in-law, or just concerned for a fellow witch?_

_Another store clerk to join the choir was Madam Malkin of _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. _Madam Malkin described a couple that seemed to be very much in love and trying to hide it._

"_They bickered a lot, over menial things." Malkin said, "Miss O'Connor seemed to forget I was there at times and was a hundred percent focused on Mr. Malfoy."_

_A later comment made being, "He even tried to buy her diamonds, but she would have none of it. I think she was afraid of havin' to answer questions 'bout how she got them, and the secret gettin' out. Rumor is that her parents ain't lettin' her spend much money here on English stuff. They were very against her comin' in the first place, I heard."_

_Let us do the math, shall we? Lucius Malfoy may have been having an affair for the last year; Sleisha O'Connor begs to come to England; her first week here and she is seen kissing the Malfoy heir; he tries to buy her diamonds, but she refuses because of an unknown fear; mindless bickering and forgetting of anyone else's presence._

_I think we have a match!_

_As the terms of the betrothal are that the young heir may desert the agreement if he finds another pureblood heiress to marry by his twenty-fourth birthday, the Blacks have reason to fear. Not only did our poll come back that Sleisha O'Connor is vastly more beautiful than Narcissa Black and our readers would rather an O'Connor-Malfoy marriage than a Malfoy-Black one, but the O'Connor heiress meets all possible requirements set forth by Lord Malfoy for his son._

_This reporter will not rest until she has all the details on this juicy scandal, and I am hoping to discover more at the upcoming Malfoy Christmas Ball, of which Sleisha O'Connor is attending and Narcissa Black, oddly, is not._

_-Aphrodite Lovegood xoxo"_

I stared at the article as I finished. I could feel the eyes of the common room on me, could the entire time I was reading. Even a few had dared to move closer and sit around me, like I was a hospital patient on their death bed. Only difference is that these people were eager for a piece of gossip, something to use against me or the Malfoys, where if I was dying they would be grim.

"So?"

My head shot up, "Yorick, I -"

"Save it." he snapped. Great, this is just the kind of thing our housemates and the gossip reporters would love.

"Nothing happened! It's a lie!" I cried, standing up and crumpling the _Prophet_ up in a ball. I threw it into the roaring fire and met his eyes, "We were _talking_ and the photographer took the picture like that, and… and … I never, ever met Lucius Malfoy until that day."

"Lie." I whipped around to glare at Snape.

"_Excuse me?"_

He shrugged a shoulder, "That was a lie, never meeting him until that day. I know these things."

"Legilimency." I stated it as a fact, "Did you use legilimens on me?"

Yorick snorted, "He didn't have to. You just gave yourself up."

"Yorick," Rita stepped up, "will you let her explain herself? So what if she lied about knowing him, did Snape say she was lying about not kissing him?" The Italian clenched his mouth shut, his jaw twitching, and Rita raised an eyebrow at my future potions master. "Well, was she lying?"

"No, that part was the truth."

Rita nodded, "See? And the rest matched what she told us herself when we met back up with her: he tried to buy her a dress and diamonds, and she refused out of fear. She was afraid of being in debt to the Malfoys, not of anyone finding out about a make believe affair."

"_Thank you!"_ I exclaimed, exasperated by the looks of doubt on my housemates' faces. Placing my hands on my hips, I narrowed my eyes fiercely, "Can I go now? I would much rather be alone than have all you trying to pry into a private life that doesn't exist."

Without awaiting for a reply I grabbed my bag and stormed calmly past my friends and out the door. I started running once they were out of sight, and I kept running until I was so out of breath and in pain that I _had_ to stop. Bloody hell, so much for blending in and lying low! I had to find a way out of the spotlight; Narcissa and Lucius _had_ to get married, or else there would be no Draco.

Yeah, odd, I know, but without him, a lot at the school would change.

I ran a hand through my hair and took a few minutes to catch my breath before straightening. I turned to head back towards the common room when I crashed into a very solid, very muscled chest and stumbled backwards. I blinked as the person's arms went around me to catch me, pulling me against him. And I looked up into very familiar, very amused grey eyes.

"Lucius…" I breathed.

"Miss O'Connor," he greeted, the formality covering his laughter. "You should watch where you're going, I could have been someone less inclined to be nice."

I huffed and squirmed to get out of his arms. He did not budge. "If you don't mind," I snapped, shock gone, "I would like to go back to my common room to sleep. It's been a very trying afternoon."

"With the article running? Yes, I suppose it would have been." Lucius looked around before pulling me into a deserted classroom. "We should talk."

"_We_ should do nothing." I threw his arms away from me and he walked away. "The less I see of you, the happier I will be. And the less chance anyone can fuel this ridiculous affair theory they have in their peanut sized brains."

I was beginning to rant. That was never good. But here he was after starting this whole mess, smirking at me and watching me like I was his personal entertainment. He stood there decked out in top of the line Armani, leaning against the wall like there was nothing to worry about.

"What do you hope to accomplish by coming here?" I demanded, stalking over to where he had ended up standing. I tilted my head back so I could meet his eyes -he was a full head taller than me - and poked his chest, "I will _not_ be some pawn of yours to get out of your marriage with Narcissa Black, nor will I be the scapegoat for her wrath even now! You want out of your engagement, find someone who gives a damn for you or -!"

He snatched my hand from the air and spun us so I was pinned to the wall. "Will you bloody shut up for just a _moment_?" he said, almost hissing, into my ear and with a hand on my mouth. For a moment I wondered why he was so quiet, then I heard the voices and footsteps passing by as students headed up for dinner.

Once the sounds of students faded completely, he removed his hand but not his body. "I have a proposal, you daft bint, which you would know already if you had cared to listen." He rolled his eyes at my sound of protest. "Do I have to silencio you or will you listen?"

I debated internally for a moment. A deal with Lucius Malfoy was a deal with the devil. Was I willing to risk my soul for him to carry on a charade, or should I kick him to the curb and damn him to life with Narcissa? I knew he had to marry Narcissa, Draco had to be born, but part of me was willing to listen. I guess I was developing a craving for mayhem and sadistic amusement.

I blew out a breath, "Fine. You have five minutes of my life, Malfoy, don't waste it." Pause. "And get _off_ me, will you?"

Lucius laughed and stepped away, giving me my personal space back. I scowled at his back as he cleared away dust and then sat on top of the teacher's desk.

"As the entire wizarding world knows, I have to find another pureblood heiress that meets my father's requirements or marry Narcissa. There is nothing wrong with Narcissa, except the fact I feel no attraction to her," he started casually. I crossed my arms in an attempt to exude minimum interest. "Long story short, here are my terms: You go to the Christmas Ball as my date and do nothing to deny the rumors publicly. We are, for all intents and purposes, a loving couple to the public eye. In private, I do all I can to make you, how did you put it, 'give a damn' for me. I don't have time to find someone who does."

"Wait! Pause and rewind," I shook my head, "You want to '_court_' me? You want to make me fall in love with you so that you don't have to marry Black, but what happens then? I marry you? Sorry, not doing it."

He sighed in exasperation, "If it works right, you won't have to. That article had one thing right: Narcissa and her family are considering throwing out the contract just on the thought I _might_ be having an affair. Now, if we act publicly, I'm sure they _will_ name the contract null and void."

"Which means…?"

"Merlin, O'Connor, I know your family is daft but come on!"

I snarled at him, almost purely animalistic. The Malfoy heir just raised an eyebrow at me and I glowered, "If the contract is void, then so is the little detail of you _having_ to marry by your twenty-fourth birthday."

"Now you've got it!" I really wished I could smack him. Just his voice was grating on me, the way he spoke like I was five and just learned the Alphabet. "I'll pay you 1,000 galleons per month we 'date' at the end of the term, unless I have managed to appropriately woo you. If you fall in love with me, we get married; if not, we break it off the night before my birthday."

I considered the probability of me falling for him. Not likely. So based on when his birthday was I would come out with 8,000 galleons, and he would be free of Narcissa.

Then a thought occurred to me. "And what if _you_ fall in love with _me_, but not vice versa?" I asked him, "What happens to our agreement then?"

By the look on his face, I could tell he thought it unlikely he would ever fall for a woman who did not fall back. But he answered anyway, "Then I still ask you to marry me, and you either say yes or no. Saying no will still bring on your payday."

"I'll have to consider it." I said, pushing away from the wall and heading for the door. I did not even touch the knob before I was turned and pressed against the stone by the door. "Seriously, do you _enjoy_ this position?" I gasped out before his hand was on my mouth again.

Distantly I heard Yorick, Rita and Macie.

"…You think she was lying about not kissing Malfoy?"

That was Macie.

"Snape said she wasn't." Yorick. "Snape isn't the kind to cover for someone in this situation. He doesn't get into the pettiness of it."

Macie made a sound, "But isn't he her tutor? Snape would cover for a friend, right enough, and they do hang out outside of sessions. Sounds like friends to me."

Yorick growled as Rita spoke up, "We should just drop it."

"This coming from the biggest resident gossip."

"I didn't say we shouldn't look into it. I just said to drop it."

"But-"

"Macie!"

"Geez, Yor, I was just gonna say that she _did_ get quite defensive about it all."

I wriggled a bit, feeling awkward. I was eavesdropping on my friends while in a very compromising situation with the very man I denied being in an affair with and which they were discussing. Lucius shot me a look of annoyance and listened intently as the conversation passed us and faded.

I pushed his hand away, "Really, this kind of thing will _not_ ever make me fall for you. Even without an answer, you should be trying your best."

A raised eyebrow was my only response before he lightly pressed his mouth to mine. "Consider that a teaser trailer for the full movie," he whispered, pulling open the door and disappearing down the corridor before I could even process how I felt about it.

"Wha -?" I blinked after him, "Bloody hell, I'll kill him."

GWLMGWLMGWLMGWLMGWLMGWLMGWLM

_Three days later_:

At breakfast, I was attacked by cereal. No, really, I was. I was very tired from being up the entire night before considering what to do about Lucius Malfoy. Me plus no sleep equals a very out of it girl. So when a large eagle owl swooped in with the morning mail, I thought nothing of it nor of how Draco in my time had the same owl.

I thought nothing of it until the bird got annoyed with me and used its letter-free leg to flip my bowl of cereal up at me. I shrieked in surprise and jumped up, "Stupid, bloody…Oh." I froze as I finally looked at the owl, and I frantically shooed the thing onto my arm and rushed from the Great Hall.

Not even a goodbye or an explanation to my housemates.

I dropped down onto the front steps of the school and reached for the letter. There turned out to be two. The first was rolled up and tied with a silk green ribbon. Very Malfoy. But one thing, it was not from Lucius. It was from his father.

_Miss O'Connor,_

_It has been brought to my attention that my son came to visit you the other day at your school. Usually, you see, I know of my son's comings and goings from the school when he is visiting old friends, but he made no visit to any of his friends. A portrait of my honorable great-great-grandfather lies within the bowels of the dungeons, Miss O'Connor, and he came to my study late two nights ago to deliver some news._

_The news was that my son came only to visit and speak with a red haired, Slytherin girl. I have debated for the last twenty four hours whether to write or not, and I have decided that I should, as I'm sure I need not tell you just how few redheads are within Slytherin families. _

_What I do need to tell you is this: my son is betrothed to a respectable young woman, and if the rumors of an affair are true, you are anything but respectable. Should the rumors be just that, rumors, and you two are simply in a courting stage then I would need to tell you __**this**__: if you make my son happy, then I will congratulate you should he propose._

_My business with you is finished, but I daresay my wife has something to add about the fact you did not allow her to spoil you with gifts of gratitude. She has contacted Madam Malkin and is having a dress ordered for you for the Ball. This is so you may not cancel the payment, but I wished to warn you before the package arrived._

_Good day,_

_Mr. Abraxas Malfoy_

I let out a short laugh. Even Lucius's father had no clue how to look at the article; I never thought I'd receive a personal owl from a grand Malfoy. Shaking my head, I looked at the second letter. This one was sealed shut with wax, and when I broke the seal I saw it was from Penelope Malfoy.

_Dear Miss O'Connor,_

_Seeing as my husband failed to mention it in his own letter, I have decided to write you myself. I have already written your parents in Ireland to ask for permission to invite you to the Manor for the Christmas holidays. They completely agreed there would be no point in you going all the way to your homeland just to come back a few days later for the Malfoy celebrations._

_I would be greatly honored to have you here for the entire holidays. Not only as the heiress of Erne, but as a lovely companion. You are such a relief from the rickety, no fun bimbos that litter high society these days. (Do not mention to my husband I used such terms, please!)_

_Do write back as soon as possible with your answer. I would love to have you, and I am positive Lucius would enjoy seeing you._

_Sincerely,_

_~Penelope M._

I laughed again, this time in amusement instead of shock. I could come to love the Lady Malfoy. When she was not stressing over her appearance, she was very fun to talk to. She had an almost naïve, positive outlook on life and way of talking. I compared her to Narcissa Malfoy in the future… definitely a better Lady Malfoy than in my time.

I dug around in my robe pockets for a quill and piece of parchment. Luckily, I had had some at the ready to write to Lucius about my decision. I guess I could kill three birds with one stone:

_Dear Lucius,_

_Simply put, my answer is yes. That is all I will mention on __**that**__ subject._

_But I received two letters this morning. One from each of your parents. I would greatly appreciate it if you would pass on my replies to them. I am severely lacking the amount of free leaf parchment needed to reply separately, and I would rather not be late for class to get more._

_Your father wrote to me to inform me that if we were in an affair, he would not approve of me, but if we were simply in a 'courting' stage then he would welcome me with open arms. __**Please**__ inform him with absolute honesty that we are __**not**__ in an affair, but __**are**__ in a courting stage…if you could even call what we are doing actual courting. And also, please, tell him I thank him for his blessing and am honored by his approval._

_Lastly, your mother wrote about me spending the Christmas hols at Malfoy Manor instead of returning to Ireland for all but the night of the Ball. I would like to accept her invitation in the knowledge that she has permission from my parents for me to remain in England. I am looking forward to getting to know her and to have her company over that which is provided here at school or back home. _

_To be honest, I prefer your family over my parents company wise. And I'm sure my accepting would help in our act… Maybe I'm just taking sick, sardonic pleasure in the prospect of pissing off some of my classmates, or it's the fact that when I saw the Blacks yesterday in Hogsmeade the looks of hatred shot my way were extremely comical. Either way, my staying at your home will have the desired effects for you, and I get to enjoy the company of your mother._

_Sincerely xoxo,_

_Sleisha G. O'Connor_

I was tempted to scribble out the 'xoxo' part of my trademark signature, and it had been a minute long mental debate on putting 'G' as my middle initial. I needed some form of my future self, and if just my first name becoming my middle name was available I would use it. Glancing over my shoulder at the time before tapping my wand on the parchment to dry the ink, rolling it up and tying it with the green ribbon to the eagle owl's leg. The owl let out a hoot as if saying 'Finally!' before taking off into the sky.

"Arrogant arse," I said about the owl, "Fit's the Malfoys perfectly."

I shook my head at myself and stood, racing back inside. I left my bag in the Great Hall, unfortunately, and had to go back in to find it before I could head up to Muggle Studies. Fortunately, I had not gone too far from the hall and it took me only a few minutes to be in and out, and up the stairs to class. I had ten minutes to get to third floor, across the castle, and up into one of the towers.

No pressure. Not like I was going to a class shared with Gryffindors wanting my existence to end, or a teacher who had a prejudice against the Slytherins because of our outlook on life. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that my own housemates were going to jump me first chance after I raced from the Great hall with the tell-tale owl of the Malfoy family.

Yeah, no pressure at all.

Maybe I should just skip. I knew all the passages and passwords. Could I get away with it?

Please, it was almost too easy. I was not the sister of the Weasley twins for nothing. So instead of heading in the direction of my class when I reached the third floor, I veered towards the corridor with the One-Eyed witch passageway. I could use a day off.


	6. Making the News

**Chapter 6:**

It felt odd to be walking the streets of Diagon Alley freely. I was sure no matter how many times I went there in that time it would still feel suffocating. I would have so many memories, both happy and full of despair, bombarding me everywhere I looked. I had not taken that into account when I Floo'd from the Three Broomsticks to the Leaky Cauldron.

Over there at Flourish and Blotts, I met Gilderoy Lockhart _and_ Lucius Malfoy for the first time; the twins' joke shop would go over there; that's the light post Bellatrix Lestrange would use to crush Colin Creevey. And down there, down there was where Lucius would hang Burris and Ewell, on the apothecary's sign. Flashes and snippets of memories raced around me as I moved with the crowd.

I stopped in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies. How many times had her and her brothers, and Harry, gone into this store?

"Excuse me," a timid voice said as the owner tugged on my robe. I looked down and almost began crying. There stood seven year old Bill. "Have you seen my mummy?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm sorry," I knelt down and smiled, "but you can stay with me right here until we see her. I'm sure she hasn't gone too far." He looked grateful to not have to be alone before putting on 'tough guy' airs. I giggled at him and, despite the improper-ness of it, I sat cross-legged on the ground. So what if I got a little dirty.

Patting the spot next to me, I said, "Why don't you tell me about yourself while we wait? I'll tell you about me, too."

"Okay!" my little, big brother sat close to me. He rested his head on my arm, "Well, I'm Bill Weasley! I just turned seven, and daddy was so proud when I finally came into my magic a few months ago. You know magic only shows itself between the ages of four and seven? If it doesn't show, then you're a squib! You're not a squib, are you?"

Laughing, I shook my head again, "No, I didn't know that. That's fascinating! I'm not a squib, and I'm positive you aren't either. This is a squib-free area." I looked around among the crowd as I spoke, "I'm Sleisha O'Connor and I just turned eighteen; I attend Hogwarts. Do you plan to go there someday?"

He nodded, "Mummy and daddy were both Gryffindors. I want to be one, too, or a Slytherin. I heard Slytherins always win the house cup." My lips twitched. I never knew Bill had liked the Slytherins. He probably stopped once the war got bad and he was old enough to understand; or when he got put in Gryffindor and became the Slytherins' rival.

"I -"

I was cut off when there was a flash of a bulb. Damned reporters! I glowered at them and shifted to shield Bill from the prying camera lens. A few more photos were taken before a intimidating woman pushed the reporter away. She had flaming red hair cut short and, though young, she had an agelessness about her that only mothers can have.

It was Molly Weasley in all her glory.

"William Arthur Weasley!" she scolded, "How dare you run off without me or your father! We were absolutely terrified; don't you know what could have happened?"

"Mrs. Weasley," I stood immediately, "please don't be too hard on him. He has a very adventurous spirit; and besides, I don't think he left your side intentionally." My eyes scanned the bustling crowd, "It is rather easy to get pulled away from a group."

"Who are you?"

"Sleisha O'Connor, ma'am," I held out a hand. She looked at it then sniffed, muttering something along the lines of 'pureblood bigotry'. I faltered and lowered my hand, clearing my throat and looking down at the little boy, "Well, uhm, Bill, I think you should apologize to your mum for making her worry."

"I'm sorry, mummy," Bill said, kicking the dirt abashedly. "I didn't mean to be gone more than a minute, I swear, but the crowd got in my way. But, Sleisha kept me safe. Did you see?"

Molly Weasley pursed her lips, "Oh yes, I saw. Exposing a child to paparazzi, no doubt a plot to gain sympathy after the Malfoy scandal."

I felt my face grow hot with anger. "I had no such intentions, Mrs. Weasley," I spoke through gritted teeth. _This_ was my loving mother? Was this how she always acted towards people she did not like? "Your son needed a companion else he would have been terrified and continued wandering the streets. Who knows how long it would've taken to find him then? I offered him company and calmed him, a child close to tears, down. Forgive me for being unable to control the reporters of your country."

I patted Bill's head and shot a harsh look at our - his - mother before starting to walk away. On impulse, I turned back around, "By the way, Mrs Weasley, it's no scandal. Lucius has _every_ right to find another bride besides Miss Black, and if I so happen to be his choice then everyone should just deal with it. Good day."

I walked away, the crowd parting around me. Usually I would have been disgruntled by the thought that these people had stopped to listen in, but today was anything but usual. News would travel quickly about the 'scene' in front of the quidditch shop, and news of my words would travel quicker. I had a feeling that within hours my words would be in print, and the world would view me as Narcissa's official competition.

Hours passed as I wander the streets and shops of Diagon Alley. I should have headed back to the school before classes got out. I did not though. Instead, I stopped at Florean Fortescue's for a bowl of my favorite ice cream.

"Here you are, Miss O'Connor," the waitress set down my order in front of me, "Three scoops of black raspberry with chocolate sprinkles."

"Thank you," I replied with a smile. "Could you possibly bring me a piece of parchment and a quill? I have a letter to write but I forgot to stop by the shop, and - "

"Of course," her black curls bounced as she nodded, "I'll just be a moment."

I sat and ate my ice cream while I waited. I was never one to eat food quickly, so I was glad for the temperature regulating charm inside the shop. My ice cream would not even begin to melt unless I took it outside. The joys of magic.

"You have ice cream on your nose," a smooth voice drawled, and I resisted the urge to hastily wipe at my face.

"Good afternoon, Lucius." I replied as he slipped into the seat opposite me. "Can I help you with anything?"

He shook his head, "Oh, no. I just wished for your _splendid_ company." To this, I snorted unabashedly at the fake in his tone. "What?"

"You're _such_ a liar. Really, what do you want?"

"Can I not seek out my possible fiance? I thought I was supposed to be courting you, but… if I was mistaken.." He made to leave his seat and I scowled darkly at him. He froze mid-rise and smirked, "Am I staying then?"

"Arrogant ass," I said to him as he sat back down.

"Nice to see you, too, Miss Front Page."

I stared and whispered a "No way." to which he produce the afternoon issue of the _Daily Prophet_. He took his time unfolding it and spreading it across the table before reading aloud:

"Sleisha O'Connor, 18, was sighted in Diagon Alley earlier today window shopping. One would wonder why the young woman was not in her classes at Hogwarts, but one should never question rich folk, and this is not the topic of our article anyway.

"Miss O'Connor took it upon herself to help a young child lost from his mother. William Weasley, 7, had gotten separated from his parents while looking in with childish glee at a new broom. When he realized his parents were nowhere to be found, he panicked. But to him a lovely, rich heiress caretaker was sent! She even dared to sit on the dirt ground - Dirt, O'Connor, really? - while talking to and calming the despairing child. Below is a picture of the two laughing and joking, moments before a very ungrateful Molly Weasley, 26, arrived.

"'That woman has no right using my child for publicity! You do realize that's all it was, don't you?' the fiery matron said to a reporter who dared to interrupt her at her home, nicknamed The Burrow. 'I will have nothing to do with that slag of a woman. I stay out of pureblood affairs as much as possible, but what she's doing to that poor Black girl… It's just horrible.'

"Miss O'Connor could not be found by our reporter, despite assurances she remained in Diagon Alley throughout the day, but witnesses attest to the fact that the Irish heiress _did_ make comment on what Mrs. Weasley called the Malfoy scandal.

"'Yeah, I was nearby…The rich lady made mention of there bein' no scandal. She was right honest 'bout the Malfoy bloke havin' "every right" to choose a different bride,' the owner of the local Quidditch sports store reported. 'Personally, I says fer her to go fer it if she thinks she can win him over.'"

I wrinkled my nose, "How sweet of the shop owner." I made no comment on what Mrs. Weasley said to the reporter. It was not like she knew I was her daughter from twenty years into the future or anything.

"That's the most you care about?" The pompous twit dared to look smug. "Not being called a slag or having your skipping of lessons broadcasted, or your declaration of being who I choose?"

"I don't," I started, "recall saying I was who you chose. I simply said _if_ I was, that people would need to get over it."

I watched him watch me as I worked on finishing my ice cream. That odd paranoia of ice cream melting was eating away at me despite knowing it would not. It was just human nature to panic, I guessed. Which led to me panicking over why he was watching me but not saying anything. To be under Lucius Malfoy's scrutiny was like being spread out naked on a lab table for a whole big group of Unspeakables. Or so I would assume, I'd never experienced the latter. The former, it was very much the same as in the future: inspiring fear and paranoia, self-consciousness taken to a new level.

That is when I remembered the ice cream on my nose.

With a blush to rival my hair rising up in my face, I snatched a napkin and went to wipe at my face. Before I could though, my wrist was being held in his hand and he was taking the napkin from my grip. I barely registered a "Let me." being spoken as he leaned across the small table to dab at my nose.

What the hell was -?

There was a snap of a camera lens followed by the ever-annoying flash of a bulb. Of course. It was all for the paparazzi. Like Lucius Malfoy could ever be cute and cuddly and affectionate. With eyes skimming over his perfectly angled face and shining grey eyes to his body, I snorted. _Right_, cute and cuddly. That would be a thought for a good laugh if I was ever depressed!

"What?" Lucius furrowed his brow in confusion, and that did it. I was dying. My laughter rang out across the parlor and heads turned to watch. He did not seem happy, but the reporter did if his rapid picture taking was anything to go by. "What's so funny?"

"You!" I gasped out, clutching my side as if it would relieve the pain I got from laughing so hard. "I just thought… Thought of you, Lucius… Lucius Malfoy being affectionate… Like a cuddly teddy bear!"

I do not think he liked the analogy. The look on his face was priceless though and had me laughing harder. I had a feeling he was going to be a stick in the mud until I saw his lips twitching. He was having a hard time trying not to laugh, too!

"That is the worst comparison I have ever heard, Sleisha! Really!" He exclaimed, shaking his head.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, lighten up!" I said before taking a finger of ice cream and dabbing it against his nose. He blinked, going slightly cross-eyed as he looked at the deep purple dairy product sitting there. I was laughing harder. Lucius Malfoy was such a joke right now to me.

"Claire," Lucius grabbed the arm of the waitress. I stopped laughing and looked wary, eyes still bright from laughing. "May I have one of those bowls, please?" He did not wait for an answer before grabbing one. I shrieked as he scooped a handful of chocolate and tossed it at me. It splattered all over my hair and face.

I wiped ice cream from my eyes and narrowed my eyes, "You are _so_ going to regret that!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes!"

"I don't think so."

"Really, Malfoy?"

"Really, _O'Connor."_

I went to stand up but then froze. What the hell was I _doing_? Just because I was pretending to be his love interest did not mean I had to actually… _flirt_ … with him! I was flirting, wasn't I? Bloody hell! Who flirts with their own tormentor/victim?

A masochist, that's who. I was a bloody masochist!

I sat back down and ran a hand through my hair. I made an "eww" noise over the chocolate staining my hair, and that had Lucius laughing again. I shot him a "I will kill you" look but it only made him laugh harder. And I realized, he never wiped off the black raspberry ice cream from his nose. Now I was laughing with him, even though I hated his guts.

And the _Daily Prophet, Witch Weekley,_ and _Wizard Vogue _all had a great picture to accompany their next article: _The Next Hit Couple - Are Those Wedding Bells Ringing?_


	7. Approvals & Memories Amiss

**A/N: Hey guys! So, so, so sorry for the long absence! I've had mega-major writer's block for the last few months on this story; then I got writer's block in general! I haven't even been able to write a simple POEM at all without sitting there for hours and developing a migraine. D': Buuuuuuttttt, I finally found ambition to finish the second half of this chapter and get it up for you!  
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**My New Year's resolution is to sit down and write more, take some more me time. I also have a resolution to eat more chocolate...let's hope the one for writing is more successful than the one about chocolate! xD**

**Read&Review, please!**

**(Also, as always, I own nothing you recognize! I simply own Ginny's fake name and the plot, though even some of that has probably been said and done in other fanfictions! I make NO PROFIT off of this; purely for fun and enjoyment by an unhealthily obsessed HP fan with no life but to write, and for the other fans who wish to read.)**

**P.S. This story is at 23,830 words total; this chapter is my longest so far I believe, with 4, 369 words. (Both numbers are not counting author notes!)  
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**Chapter 7:**** To Be Or Not To Be**

_Witch Weekly:__  
><em>_The Next Hit Couple - Are Those Wedding Bells Ringing?_

_After the debacle with the Weasley family in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, everyone's new favorite heiress, Sleisha O'Connor, slipped under the radar. At least, she did until around 5:00. It was merely hours after the 'scene' and already there were rumors, articles, and pictures circulating across Europe. No one could get enough of this young spitfire from Ireland, and that is why this reporter kept up the search in Diagon Alley even as others gave up for the night._

_Miss O'Connor was reported to be at Florean Fortescue's eating ice cream alone. What an odd thought for a young woman so admired, hated, and famous! But as I arrived at the ice cream parlour, it seemed she had acquired a companion. Lucius Malfoy sat across from her. Not much of a surprise. What _**_was_**_ a surprise was the young heir appearing so laid back and, dare we say it, _**_open._**

_The Malfoy family in general is known for giving the "cold shoulder" to anyone and everyone who does not meet their standards. And even then, it's a cool politeness. No Malfoy dares to show their emotions in public, or to appear "vulnerable" around others by having their guard down. Yet we found Mister Malfoy, said to be the coldest of cold Malfoys, teasing Miss O'Connor for her article in the afternoon _**_Daily Prophet_**_. The heiress seemed disbelieving of what was being said, but her only comment was over the owner of the Quidditch shop's statement. She was heard to say "How sweet" which prompted more teasing from her possible fiancé._

_Below you will see a picture of what their teasing led to - an ice cream fight! The young couple had the other customers aww'ing and laughing. A waitress named Claire tells us it all started over Mister Malfoy offering to wipe ice cream off of Miss O'Connor's face, and she had the audacity to compare the cold heir to a - wait for it! - teddy bear for being so sweet! The picture below plays out Mister Malfoy's response of flinging chocolate ice cream at the Irish heiress, their few seconds of childish banter, and then Miss O'Connor getting prepared to exact her revenge._

_Sadly, she seemed to recover herself and remember they were in a public place before sitting down. Many present wished to watch more of the young couple's interaction. It was not to be, though, for the most that occurred was laughter at each other. As little as it may seem, many witnesses and readers liked to point out that Mister Malfoy and Narcissa Black _**_never _**_behaved in such a manner. They never saw the young Malfoy heir smile in Miss Black's presence, never laugh at anything she said or did to capture his attention, and Miss Black was never so free with herself and her emotions. Many believe this to be a perfect match, the Malfoys and O'Connors, compared to the aristocratic, cold and simply political match of the Malfoys and Blacks._

_Miss Claire Walters, the waitress working at the time, comments, "I've never seen an 'unofficial' couple behave in such a way. Something tells me Narcissa Black already lost this fight before she could even plan an attack, and Sleisha is already the victor of Mister Malfoy's heart. If this is how they act in public, one could only wonder how much joy they find together when they are not being scrutinized and needing to hold back for 'propriety' reasons."_

_We then asked if she were close to the Irish heiress, due to the use of her first name. Miss Walters shook her head and said, "No, not really. She's only been in a few times, but she insists we all call her Sleisha and treat her like a normal witch. One can't not become familiar with her, she's so open and kind to everyone; she's rarely aloof, just when cameras are around."_

I snorted softly and did not even finish reading. The article was rubbish. Oh yes, it was well written and had the facts straight, but seeing my name in ink was always rubbish.

Shaking my head, I curled up in bed and tossed the paper on the side table. The bed was bigger and plusher than the one in the Slytherin dorms. The joys of a Malfoy lifestyle, I guessed. And, no, before anyone thinks anything, Malfoy and I did not _do_ anything. He wrote to Dumbledore and apologized for my skipping class, saying he asked me to meet him but he ended up running late. So I was excused from any detentions (though not missed work) and Mal - Lucius - brought me to Malfoy Manor for the night. Penelope Malfoy had been overjoyed to see me; I could not say the same for the elder male Malfoy.

_-Flashback-_

_Lucius and I were on our way out so he could show me the gardens when a curt "Come into my office, Miss O'Connor?" came from behind us. It was not a request, as it was worded to sound, but an indirect order. Lucius seemed to realize that there was no way out of whatever discussion was about to happen, so he placed a kiss on my fingers before handing me off to his father._

_"Mr. Malfoy," I began as we stepped through the door and he waved me to the couch in the center of the room._

_"Miss O'Connor," he cut me off, "I just have a few rules for your stay here."_

_"Of course, sir."_

_"You will stay out of the North Wing. I shall not give you a reason, you will just do it." I could only nod my head and try to keep my thoughts and curiosity from showing as he continued, "Second, there will be no entering my son's private quarters alone with him at any time. With my wife or myself shall be fine. Third, I would like for you to not wander the manor unaccompanied. There are many house-elves who can show you where you are allowed and keep you from where you are not. And I suggest not leaving your room after eleven at night. These rules will be in place tonight, any night you stay over, and during the holidays when you stay here."_

_I straightened my back and looked directly at him, "Mr. Malfoy, I understand your wish to set ground rules, but I am not an adventurous child. I am an heiress to a pureblood fortune as much as your son is an heir to one. I can take care of myself, and will more than likely spend my time with Lucius or your wife if I am not in my rooms." My gaze sharpened and I spoke louder when he made a noise of objection, "No disrespect, Mr Malfoy, but one would take your attitude to me as anything _**_but_**_ approval of me being your son's choice."_

_"One would take your words as defiance, and yours actions as childish."_

_"I am defiant. It is in my blood as an O'Connor, as an Irish born witch, and as an heiress to be defiant and independent. This is your home, Mr Malfoy, and I do not wish to be disrespectful, but you disrespect me with your tone." I quipped, "And if I am childish, then I am childish. You do not know me, only what everyone else knows through the papers. Take some time to get to know me and you might just learn something of my character." _

_Abraxas Malfoy appeared to be speechless as I stood, "Now, if I am right, you wish to place a charm on me to keep Lucius and I from being intimate. As insulted as I am at the insinuation, I will respectfully agree to it with just this comment: the most we have done is one simple, second long kiss. And that was _**_his_**_ doing."_

_I held out my hand and, wordlessly, he extracted his wand from his robes. He muttered a spell and the symbol of a 'V' with a serpent around it glowed under my skin before disappearing within seconds._

_-End Flashback`_

Bloody bigot. As if I would really do anything with Lucius. I was only off of classes for today, and I had promised half my day to Penelope anyway. I swore I was falling in love with the Malfoy matron instead of the Malfoy heir. She reminded me so much of the Molly Weasley who raised me instead of hated me. She was so cheerful and spoke freely of how she felt - at least when the men were out of earshot.

Speaking of…

There was a soft knock on the door before the Malfoy matron poked her head in. "Oh good!" she exclaimed, "You are up! Lucius has been badgering the house-elves to wake you, but I told them to let you sleep."

I sat up and smiled, "Good morning to you too, Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for letting me sleep in."

"Not a problem, m'dear, and you may call me Penny," Penelope closed the door behind her and crossed to the armoire. "Now, let's find you something to wear for today. It's a bit chilly out. Lucius is insisting we show you the gardens, though."

"Of course he is," I rolled my eyes. Tossing back the covers, I stretched and made my way to the bathroom. "Pick what you think will be nice, I'll be right out after a quick shower." I just got a distracted nod in reply, and I felt another smile tugging at my lips. Just like Molly.

After climbing out of the shower, I dried off as much as possible before slipping on my bra and panties and wrapping the towel around myself, grabbing a second to towel dry my hair. I glanced in the mirror briefly before heading back into the bedroom, ruffling my hair with the towel.

"Find anything, Mrs. – I mean, Penny?"

"Yes, dear. Come look." She beamed brightly and waved a hand slightly at the outfit laid out on the bed. It was a beautifully made sweater dress that would reach my knees, and there was a pair of pantyhose set beside it. (http:/ www. / eng / womensapparel-dresses-sweaterdresses-Cassie_Ruffled_Sweater_Dress-lordandtaylor / 201701 ) "There should be a pair of black boots in the closet over there to go with it. I'm sorry, I couldn't find any jeans as that seems to be your style, so I settled on what I thought you would like."

I smiled, "It's great, Penny. Thank you."

The elderly blond nodded, "Let's get you into this and not keep our men waiting any longer!"

She flicked her wand to pull both my and her hair back out of our faces before helping me to slip on the pantyhose. I pulled the dress on over my head as Penny went to the closet and found a pair of stiletto boots, merely two inch heels, that would go to my thighs.

The overall effect when I looked at myself in the mirror was amazing. I could still see the sallow look to my skin and the seen-too-much look in my eyes, but the outfit added an elegance to my appearance. I looked _healthy_. Madam Frost had brought color to my hair and cheeks, helped me gain back weight and not look so dead; Penny's skill made me look _healthier_. To look how a rich, teen heiress should look. I would have to have her teach me. I was crap at this stuff.

"Thank you, Penny, thank you so much!" I turned and hugged her. She looked confused, not knowing my inner thoughts, but she hugged me back and smiled.

"Any time, dear." She took a finger and fixed my eye liner. "Now, let's not keep the men waiting any longer."

Penny and I descended the stairs to the entrance hall where the Malfoy men and a house elf waited for us. The family as a whole was taking me on a tour of the grounds, and we were going to have a picnic by their lake. They owned a bloody _lake_. I could not wrap my head around that. Of course, the Weasleys had a lake and bunch of ponds on their grounds, but we did not actually _own_ them. Muggles just avoided the woods and our land as much as possible, so we got full use of them.

"You look beautiful," was the first thing Lucius said to me when his mother and I reached the three.

I smiled warmly, ignoring the blush creeping into my cheeks at the compliment, "Thank you."

He offered his arm and I took it, just as Mr. Malfoy and Penny did. Penny winked at me behind her husband's back before turning to face forward and heading out the door, opened by two other house-elves who had magically appeared. The two stared enviously at the little elf carrying our basket; it was an honor to them to get invited to accompany their master and mistress on an outing, I knew.

Lucius and I followed a few feet behind his parents, and he dipped his head low to say in my ear, "I have to wonder… was this all my mother's work, or did you do it?"

I shot him a half hearted glare, before sticking my tongue out at him. "You'll be disappointed to find out your mother did all the work. I am a shame to heiresses everywhere when it comes to fashion."

"Oh thank Merlin!"

"What?"

"Except my mother, I cannot stand a woman who tries hard to keep up with the changing fashions, who only cares about how she appears." He smiled. "Of course a woman should be fashionable, but too such an extreme? Narcissa is always shopping for new clothes, shoes, jewelry; complaining that clothes she bought the week prior are out of date. It's good you're not like that."

"I was never a slave to fashion." I wrinkled my nose. "You might get disgusted by this, but I usually just wear _muggle clothes_. Jeans, beaters, sneakers, all that _'plebian_' stuff purebloods here gasp in shock over when one of their own go out in public like that."

"That's not disgusting."

I stopped in my tracks and stared up at him. He smirked and raised an eyebrow at me as if to ask 'what?'. I just gaped in response. Lucius Malfoy, hater of all things muggle, just said there was nothing wrong with wearing _muggle clothes_? I had to be in an alternate universe!

Wait…

His expectant look made me turn away and start walking again, practically pulling him. I scowled at his chuckle and glared at him, "What?"

"Nothing, Sleisha." He smirked at me.

I stopped again, "_What?_"

"Nothing."

"Lucius."

"Sleisha?"

"You're an arse."

Lucius laughed, "This coming from a lady."

"I'm no lady." I said blatantly, removing my arm from his to cross mine over my chest. "I'm Irish, they don't breed ladies; gypsies maybe, not ladies."

"Pity. A lady gypsy would be very interesting, I think. Can you not be both?"

"A cut-throat thief who dances around bonfires and makes sacrifices to pagan gods or goddesses _and_ a lady who is all about rule following, dancing in ballrooms with clothing that actually covers you properly?" I raised an eyebrow back at him, "Is that a possible mix?"

"Hmm," he tapped a finger against his jaw, "I suppose not. But we will try it with you, won't we? I'd like to see some of those gypsy dances." He winked at me, and my face flushed.

The bad part was, I actually _knew_ the dances. The Weasleys _are_ related to the O'Connors and the dances and beliefs are passed down even if we never consider ourselves Irish gypsies now that we've lived in England for centuries.

"What are you two doing?" I jumped and looked ahead to Mr. Malfoy. They were nearly to the gardens where Lucius and I were not even half way down the path from the front doors. My blush deepened.

"Sorry, Mr. Malfoy. We got caught up in our conversation." I replied, hastily taking Lucius' arm again and letting him lead me down the path.

"Ah, and what was the topic of conversation?"

"Gypsies." Lucius smirked before I could answer. I could tell Mr. Malfoy disapproved by his face, but Penny laughed, "How interesting!"

"Very, Mother. Sleisha was just telling me the differences between the Irish women and the English. According to her, most Irish are still considered gypsies, even if they have money."

"Because they _are._ Even the muggles recognize our differences. I've heard whispers and rumors of myself among the muggles in which I'm a gypsy who steals babies for pagan sacrifices, or I'm a vampire who prays on the men of the village and leads them to adultery." I shook my head, my eyes showing my amusement. In my time, there actually _had_ been those rumors going around Ottery St. Catchpole. They started after my fifteenth birthday, when I came into myself and the boys and men of the village could not help themselves but look, and the children came to me for no reason when they saw me.

"It's very amusing to listen to the muggles try to explain the existence of those with magic." I commented, lips twitching slightly. We walked around the corner and my smile bloomed across my face, "Ah, but that is not what our day is for! This is what; the garden is beautiful!"

And it was. There were colors everywhere, flowers of all kind. Tiger lilies, gardenias, daises, roses – lots and lots of roses, of all colors! I released Lucius's arm to approach a bush of blue roses. "They're beautiful!" I gasped out, letting my fingers caress a rose's petals.

"The blue roses are my father's favorite," Lucius commented, watching Mr. Malfoy for a reaction to my interest.

The elder man nodded his head with what appeared to be the first smile he ever gave me directly. "Are you fond of roses, Miss O'Connor?"

"Oh, yes! I absolutely adore white roses; those are my favorite. I've never seen a blue rose before, though. They're gorgeous." I knelt down to inspect the flower. I trailed my fingers across the petals and down the stem, curving my nails against the thorns when I came across any.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up. Mr. Malfoy knelt beside me and, removing his wand from his pocket, cut and preened the flower before tucking it behind my ear. "A welcome present," he said with a small smile.

I smiled back, "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. But, a welcome to what?"

Penny laughed, "To the family, Sleisha. You have officially gained Abraxas' approval over your love for his roses." I laughed softly and let the elder man help me to my feet before passing my hand over to his son.

"Let's continue on down to the lake," Mr. Malfoy nodded in the direction. "Miss O'Connor, do you see those purple flowers over there? The ones growing by the wall?"

"Yes; it's a butterfly bush, isn't it? Or, that's the nickname many use for them. Butterflies adore going to them when they are open."

"Indeed. The flowers only open in the morning, then close as the sun disappears." Mr. Malfoy found joy in talking about his garden. How could such an intimidating man be so gentle?

We continued to point out and discuss flowers with one another, and somehow along the way I ended up on his arm with Lucius escorting his mother. No one seemed to find reason to complain about the switch. I glanced over my shoulder at Lucius and found his eyes were already on me. I lowered my eyes slightly, blushing, but I could still see him through my lashes. He was watching me with an odd look on his face; the one that guys get when they imagine what a life with a girl would be like. This made me blush more and turn my attention back to Mr. Malfoy.

"Abraxas, love," Penny spoke, "why don't we send Mitchie ahead to set up the blankets?"

"Excellent idea," he nodded. "Mitchie, go to the lake and set up the blankets and food. We shall be down in approximately five minutes."

"Yessir, Mitchie is going to set up for Masters and Misses." The elf bowed low with the basket clasped in both hands before popping out.

"Have the Malfoys always had house-elves?" I asked in genuine curiosity. All I was ever taught about the Malfoy family was the prejudice held by the Weasleys. _'They have money where we don't, baby girl,'_ my dad had said many times, _'The Malfoys think they are better than us, better than everyone because they can afford house-elves and have society's approval.'_ But did they always have it? How did they get it?

Mr. Malfoy blinked at the odd question, random as it was. "No, I do not believe we did." He glanced back at Penny and Lucius before meeting my gaze. "The Malfoy family came across their fortune in the early 900s. After they assisted Salazar Slytherin build the Chamber of Secrets. Slytherin paid very – my dear girl, are you alright?"

I was choking on air and halted mid-step. Penny crashed into me but played it off and patted my back in concern. "_A chara_ Merlin! (Dear Merlin!)" I cried. "_Seomra na Fola thagann suas i gcónaí! _(Bloody Chamber always comes up!)"

Yes, I knew Gaelic. I did say the Weasleys were related to the O'Connors; even if they distantly acknowledged one another, we still learned one another's language. It came in handy when I wished to disguise my reaction from those who did not know the language I was speaking.

"Sleisha?"

I jumped at the sound of Lucius' voice. I even let out an undignified squeak as I looked to face him.

He touched my arm, "Are you alright?"

I nodded, "Yes, fine…"

"You're really pale."

"I'm always pale, Lucius."

"You look terrified.." he pressed almost urgently.

I slumped a bit. "It's nothing," I reassured despite the feeling I had to run away from the Manor and these people for good. "Let's continue walking. Please, Mr. Malfoy, continue?"

Despite the look of curiosity and interest I was getting, Mr. Malfoy started up again, "As I was saying. Slytherin paid very well for the help given by the Malfoys – at the time, Malfoi of France – and the heir to the Malfoy name knew his business. He made very wise investments, even got involved in the black market and back alley transactions to multiply the pay from Slytherin."

I nodded and made small comments here or there as we made our way out of the gardens and down the hill towards the lake. I said such things as "Merlin! Really?" and "That was a touch of bad luck! Lucky things got better." Such things as that, though I really was not into it at all. My mind kept replaying the beginning of the story alongside the memory of future-Lucius slipping the diary into my cauldron when I was eleven. Then came the memory of Tom manifesting before me; my first black out; when I realized it was me and panicked. All the way up to the last memory of Lucius or memory from Lucius I had. When I murdered my current betrothed twenty-some years in the future, when I would still be seventeen and he would be an old man. And the man who was escorting me would be dead from dragon pox; the woman behind me that I have already come to love would be missing.

These thoughts haunted me throughout our picnic. I kept a bright, cheery smile the whole time; it was if my mind was there, and I guess it was partially. But the other half, the half I was conscious of, the one I was aware of what was going on, was trapped in a never ending cycle of reminders of who exactly I was picnicking with. What would happen to them, because of them.

I don't think I even made it to the end of our lunch before I fainted.

**A/N: I know, I know. It was really rushed at the end. That's because of the writer's block I developed half way through this chapter + the fact I decided to start writing at 1 A.M + that I was about to hit another writer's block if I didn't end the chapter soon. Sorry!**

**Peace, Love & Happiness,  
>~Aiya~<br>**


	8. Misunderstandings

**A/N: Here is a slightly shorter chapter than I usually post. I admit, it's a bit rushed, rough around the edges. I just felt so bad for not updating in a long time because of that stupid writer's block that I wanted to post another chapter. I forced myself to sit on my laptop for 2 hours to get this chapter done and written to a point where I felt it publishable despite how much it sucks. :P**

**Also, I figured I'd continue with the dissent happening between Ginny and Lucius. I want to have a chapter up that brings their major difference into the light, and brings Yorick, Rita and Macie back into the picture. Despite my writer's block, I sat down with a very clear idea of what I wanted to happen. I'm just not so sure I wrote it at its best - I probably didn't - and that it came out as well written as I would have liked.**

**Oh well! As long as you all get a second update and accept this chapter, I'm good!  
><strong>

**Read&Review, please?**

**Peace, Love, && Happiness,  
>~Aiya~<br>**

Strike of Twelve

**Chapter 8: **

"…she cannot stay here. She …"

"Father, we can't just…"

"The Dark Lord… suspicious…"

"…can't, Brax!"

"Hush, Penny!"

"To hell with the… Sleisha is a guest, and…"

"Watch what you say, mother!"

My eyes flew open as the words drifted through my foggy mind. What were they talking about? What happened? I needed to hear what they were discussing. Could I pull off being asleep? Probably not…well, possibly.

I snapped my eyes closed as I heard the door opening. It barely registered in my mind that I was in a different room than usual – possibly a sitting room, as I was on a couch – and that I should be concerned about what was going to happen. No, I was just concerned with hearing more of their whispered conversation. Maybe I would hear something about why I was told to stay out of the North Wing of the Manor!

"Is she awake?" Lucius' voice was full of concern.

Mr. Malfoy made a disgruntled noise, "If she were awake, Lucius, her eyes would be open or she'd be moving. She's been like that for the last two nights."

Two nights? Why wasn't I taken to my guest room or something?

"We should really move her to somewhere more comfortable." Thank you, Penny!

"If we try to move her, we risk her being seen here!"

"Abraxas!"

"The Dark Lord will not take kindly to Miss O'Connor being here now."

"He would not take it kindly when he finds out you lied and said no one was here besides us!" Penny argued even as I heard Lucius take an intake of breath to say, I assumed, the same thing.

"The Dark Lord…!"

A new voice joined, "The Dark Lord, what?"

I tensed and felt my heart start beating faster. I was surprised no one heard it and turned to look at me.

"My lord!" the three Malfoys exclaimed, and I heard them drop down to bow at his feet.

Voldemort made a sound of slight disgust before I felt his hand trail along my hair. "Who is this, Abraxas, my old friend?"

"This? This is…is.. no one…"

"Do not lie to me."

Lucius spoke up, "It is Sleisha O'Connor, my Lord."

"Your betrothed?"

"Not officially, my Lord. She is who I want, though."

A sound of thought came from right beside me, and the hand on my hair moved down my face to my throat. I kept myself as still as possible without tensing. I think I twitched, but Voldemort showed no sign of noticing it.

"And why," Voldemort tightened his fingers on my throat slightly, "would you choose this girl over the approved bride, Narcissa Black? That was who I gave to you…does she not please you?"

"Narcissa is amazing witch, but she is not who I want. She is not the right witch to become the mistress of Malfoy Manor." Lucius said, voice tight. I felt _his_ hand tighten a bit as the Malfoy heir spoke. "Please, my Lord; she will please you, I'm sure of it!"

A scoff sounded. "Abraxas, will you really allow your son to beg for such riffraff? It's a disgrace."

"Ah, Cygnus!" Voldemort stepped away from me, "How great of you to join us."

"Cygnus," Abraxas greeted. "My lord, might we take this impending conversation to another room? So as to not disturb Miss O'Connor?"

"Why not wake her up? Is it not a bit late to be sleeping?" I could hear the smirk in the elder Black's voice.

Penny finally joined in again, "There was a bit of an incident the night before you arrived, my Lord. Miss O'Connor blacked out on our outing to the lake; she has yet to wake up."

"Interesting…so she's unstable." Cygnus Black was still smirking. I could just tell.

"No!" Lucius snapped. He calmed himself and spoke, voice more detached, "It occurred after a conversation with my father about the…"

"The what, young Malfoy?"

"The Chamber of Secrets, my Lord." Lucius sounded like he would rather not discuss me with anyone there, "She seemed…terrified…and like she was on auto-pilot throughout our lunch after that."

No reply was made, but I felt eyes on me. I resisted the urge to shift around self-consciously. I was supposed to be passed out! Not listening into their conversation.

"Wake her up."

"My lord, we have _tried_," Mr. Malfoy protested, "We brought in one of the best healers, and even he could not fathom the cause."

"Very well. Cygnus, Abraxas, Lucius…come."

The door opened and shut behind the men a few moments later, and I jumped up into a sitting position. Penny jumped and stared at me. I gave her quite a shock considering I had apparently been out cold for two days, and I just deceived the Dark Lord into believing I was still unconscious. Well, hey. I had a lot of experience when it came to surviving in Voldemort's presence.

"Sleisha – !"

"Penny, was that…? That wasn't…" Of course I knew who it was. But I was supposed to be new to England and its problems. I never met Lord Voldemort in this time. I could not be as unaffected as I actually was without raising some eyebrows.

Penny looked distraught as she sat down beside me, "Please, do not judge us for this… The Malfoys have always been a very proud, pure-blood family. He – the Dark Lord – is offering us our wildest dreams. A society in which we do not have to hide who we are! Where we – "

"I understand," I cut in, before adding coldly, "but I don't accept it."

I stood up and, though slightly wobbly, stalked to the door. "I'll see you at Christmas, Mrs. Malfoy." I said, closing the door on a shocked and clearly hurt Penny. I lent against the door for a moment, taking a shaky breath. I then glanced around the hall before taking off at a run towards 'my' room.

I was able to get there and pack my belongings with no problem. It was as I was running down the stairs to the front doors that I was stopped, a hand grabbing my arm and pulling me against them.

"Sleisha!" It was Lucius. I glanced over my shoulder at him. Behind him, the door to another sitting room was open; Voldemort and the two pureblood aristocrats stood in the doorway, watching.

Voldemort looked different. Not so… snake-like. He appeared to be in his thirties (though, if my math was correct, he was in his fifties) with hair as dark as when he was a teenager. His eyes were still that startling cobalt blue that could look like lightning in certain lighting. His face was smooth of wrinkles, too. I blamed his still amazing good looks on his horcruxes making him immortal and not really age too much.

"Let go, Lucius." I snapped, striking back with my elbow. Just seeing Voldemort made me angry enough to be harsh. I never liked being harsh, but I could be. "I'm leaving."

"Why?"

"I…I can't stay here! You know who I am, Lucius! And you know what _he_ thinks of my family!" I turned and looked up at him haughtily. He went to speak, but I slapped him. Hard. "Have fun with Narcissa." I wrenched my arm from his shocked grasp and took off out the door.

Voldemort laughing was the last thing I heard before the giant doors banged shut behind me. The last thing I saw was Penny rushing out the door after me before I disapparated.

"Yorick!" I called out as I ran into the boys' dorm. It was just after dinner. Everyone was getting changed for the night – whether it be sleep or studying or a 'secret' party. I probably should have thought about that before barging into a dorm room full of young men.

"Woah!" Yorick spun around and caught me, his bed being closest to the door. "Cover your eyes, Sleisha." He did not need to tell me twice. My face was already buried in his, albeit bare, chest. "Guys, do me a favor and finish up quickly. Sley, keep your eyes closed, and just…uh… lay down on my bed."

"Okay," I said meekly. He guided me down onto his bed, and I put my hands over my already closed eyes, saying "Sorry!" to the others in the room.

Choruses of "It's fine." or "It's okay." rang out from the others, though a few sounded disgruntled by my appearance in their dorm. They finished getting dressed and ready quickly, though, with no complaint, and within five minutes I was left alone with Yorick.

"Let me just find a shirt, and…keep your eyes closed!" I laughed and just raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? I'm not allowed to see you half dressed?" I asked, "Do you have, like, some deformity you're embarrassed over?"

His face flushed, "No. It's just not decent of a woman to see a man other than her husband like this. Or a man other than her betrothed." I felt like I was slapped.

I played it off.

"Isn't it also against propriety's rules for a man and woman to be alone in a bedroom unless they're married?" I smirked at him as I watched his eyes flicker over his bed, and me on it.

"Shut up," he grumbled. "What do you want? I'm sure if news of this gets to Malfoy – and it will – he won't be very happy."

"Lucius and I aren't together."

"Didn't seem that way."

"Melrin, Yor! He was paying me to act like his choice of bride to get out of his arranged marriage with Narcissa!" I cried in frustration. "I played the part of a soon-to-be bride, he played the part of a wizard in love! I even stayed at his place for the weekend – which ended _horribly_ – and right now I could really just use an ear to listen to me!"

Yorick blinked at me, his shirt hanging limply in his hand. "You're not engaged to him?"

"No!"

"You aren't going to ever be engaged, for real?"

"Definitely not!"

The Zabini heir was in front of me before I could blink. I barely registered him pulling me to my feet before I felt him kissing me. I let out a squeak of surprise against his mouth, then wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

I was not sure how long we stood there snogging, but it must have been awhile because someone came looking for Yorick. We jumped apart as someone knocked on the door and then just walked in.

"Hey, Yor, did you hear that…" Rita and Macie froze, "that Sleisha was back. And she's here, in your room…Alone?"

"Er, yeah," I blushed, "I came up to find him…He wasn't finished getting dressed, so, uhm, yeah.." I became aware of me moving my hand as if showing them Yorick's appearance. "Back home it wasn't such a big deal."

"It's a major deal here!" Macie exclaimed in dismay, "You're engaged to Lucius Malfoy, you can't be alone with Yorick! Even if you weren't engaged, it's horribly improper!"

"Lucius and I aren't engaged." I scowled.

"And Sleisha is welcome in here any time she wants," Yorick added with a scowl to rival mine.

Rita looked at me coldly, "For only one reason, we would presume. By your appearances."

I blanched, "What?"

"Snogging much?" Rita sneered at me. "Come on, Macie. Let's leave these two alone, shall we?" The blond then stormed from the room, followed by a confused Macie.

"Ignore her," Macie managed before shutting the door.

"Damn it!"

I jumped. Yorick looked angry. No, not just angry, but pissed off and…hurt?

"Why'd you kiss me if you're in love with her?" I demanded. I was not angry, quite the opposite. I was happy. I kissed Yorick and realized, as much as he's a good snog, I did not have those feelings for him. And, now, Yorick kissed me and realized it was just fascination with the new and unknown; he was really in love with Rita.

"I… Sleisha, I'm sorry… I…"

I laughed and punched his arm, "Don't be such a Hufflepuff, Yorick. Go after her!" He looked at me in shock before grabbing me and kissing my cheek. Yorick grabbed my hand and pulled me from the room, only letting go as we reached the bottom of the stairwell.

I laughed brightly at him as he ran across the room to Rita. He looked like he was running a marathon with how fast he was going. And it was even funnier when he could not slow down and ended up crashing into her, landing in a pile of limbs on the ground.

Rita looked ready to hit him, until he kissed her. I watched as he whispered something to her, and she lifted her head to stare at me in disbelief and…apology. Whatever Yorick told her, he explained what happened and why. With a little fudging of the details, of course.

I smiled and inclined my head at her before making my way to the portrait hole. I wanted something to eat. Yes, I know, dinner was just a little while ago, but I got here from Malfoy Manor in the middle of it. I was not in the mood for a scene or to be stared at, so I just wandered the halls.

Now I was hungry.


	9. Thoughts of Laughter

**A/N: Here's a short, filler chapter. I'm slowly working out of my writer's block that took over for the last few months. I'm not even gonna give you hope for quicker updates like this, though, cos when I do say something about updating more often, it tends not to happen. So, no, I probably won't updated very soon very often. I will be writing, though! Even through writer's block, i will come up with _something_ for you guys as often as possible. :)**

**Anyway! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I tried to bring Sirius Black back into the story, as you will see; The chapter is a bit rushed and not very well written in my opinion. But I'll leave the judging up to you guys in your REVIEWS, which I will be expecting after how many reviews I got for the last 2 chapters!**

**Thanks for all of those, by the way! :D Glad you guys like the story so far!**

**Read&Review!  
>~Peace, Love, &amp;&amp; Happiness<br>Aiya~  
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Strike of Twelve

**Chapter 9:**

I sat in the kitchens a few weeks – maybe two - later, sipping hot chocolate and thinking. The chocolate was soothing, and the tangy pumpkin flavor added kept me awake. It was late. Very late, actually. But when did that ever stop _me_ from doing what I wanted?

So there I was at nearly one in the morning, badgering the house-elves and vice versa about food and drinks and getting comfortable. This was the usual for me now. After the "Disaster" at Malfoy Manor, I have not been able to sleep. My body's schedule was thrown all out of whack.

I never ate at meal times. I never went to sleep until about four in the morning; I barely ever woke up in time to be presentable for classes _and_ eat breakfast. I fell asleep during classes, I got sick if I tried to exercise at my usual time after dinner. It was just one big shit storm of confusion for my mind.

Honestly, I would not even connect my annoyingly confused body and mind with the "Disaster" usually. It was only the fact that it all started after looking at Voldemort that made knots form in my stomach and my head to start pounding. Just the thought, _the thought_, that maybe Voldemort had put some wonky curse on me had me ready to bolt back to the future.

There was no plausible reason for Voldemort to curse me. And, if I was honest with myself, he could do a whole lot worse than simple throw off my inner balance. Like, I don't know, the cruciatus rings a bell of warning. Or the Avada Kedavra. Something just told me Voldemort would not curse me this way.

But Cygnus Black would.

He glared bloody murder that day. If looks could kill, I would have been killed and resurrected just to be killed again about a million times. Throwing off my inner balance would benefit him. It would make me – how did he say? – unstable. I would lose control of myself, lose my mind at some point out of the frustration or sicknesses that would occur. The light would shine badly on me and reflect very well on his youngest daughter.

Bloody arse.

There was only one Black man I could stand in my entire life, and that was Sirius. I regretted not getting to know him better in this time. I had a reputation, though, as a pureblood heiress in Slytherin house. And Lucius Malfoy's potential bride. I needed to wow the middle class with my modesty and kindness; I needed to be radiant with poise and grace for the pureblood hierarchy.

I had no time for Gryffindor riff raff.

But, I am actually _off_ topic of what I was thinking about while sitting in the kitchens. I was not thinking of Sirius Black or body imbalance or being cursed. I was thinking of Lucius Malfoy.

I was thinking of all the letters he sent me. Of the flowers practically flooding my dorm. The necklace he sent that, for a Malfoy, was very plebian with its single amethyst crystal on a silver chain.

I was thinking of how Yorick made up with the blond boy. Of how my friends encouraged me to forgive Lucius for whatever it was that drove me away. (Of course they did not, and could not, know. As much as I despised the Dark army, I new it would be a death sentence to tell anyone who was not "in the know" that Voldemort resided with the Malfoys.)

I thought of how wonderfully sweet Lucius could be and had been. I thought of how he jumped to my defense, then cowered in fear before 'his lord'. I mused on the fact that he had genuinely seemed to care for my safety that night, and how he begged me to stay and let him explain.

Then I thought of how cold I was towards him most of the time. Yes, I had flirted. Yes, I had even tried to imagine being married to him, even though I knew I never really would.

Did I find him flattering, charming, kind, honest and sweet? Definitely.

Did I give him a chance to explain, to beg my forgiveness for him lying to me? No…

Should I have? Probably. I could have used the opportunity to be "in the know" about Voldemort…And, I guess, I did miss Lucius just a bit.

A teeny, _tiny_ bit.

I groaned and fell back on the couch, setting my cup on the floor. "Why does life have to be so bloody _complicated?"_ I said in exasperation to cut off my thoughts.

"Because otherwise it would not be worth living."

I nearly screamed.

Sirius laughed heartily at me. He stopped when I shot him a glare. "Sorry. Not in the mood, I see," he sat down in a chair across from me. Briefly, he ordered some snacks from an elf before turning his eyes back to me. "Anything I can help with?"

"I doubt it," I sighed.

He sighed, too, "You sure? I mean, I may not be a perfect pureblood son, but I'm still in the loop. Malfoy misses you."

I moved before I could realize I had even thought to do so. I watched as my cup flew across the space between us and shattered against the wall just behind his head. It would have hit him if he had not ducked.

"Don't you dare," I snarled, "mention him! Don't think you can ever possibly know what is going on inside my head, Sirius Black! You will surely be wrong every time!"

I was, of course, referring to the fact that I knew the future, and everything that happens to me here has me thinking of the future. What people in the future would have done, what those people will say about what I have done; how it will affect the future: for good or for bad?

Sirius held his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, Sleisha. Just thought…"

"You thought wrong."

"You sure? He had to be on your mind…at least at some point."

"No." I replied hastily, too hastily, seething.

He smirked, "Uh-huh. Okay…fine. Malfoy not on the mind; I guess I'll just leave you to your non-Malfoy related thoughts, shall I?" He stood to leave.

I clenched my fists, "Sit back down, you bloody idiot. You Gryffindors think you're so clever and funny. Well, you're not. You state the obvious and are bloody annoying. Now, give me your damned advice so I can head back to my common room."

I simply got a raised eyebrow in response.

"_Please,_" I added with frustration.

Sirius smiled pleasantly and, as he accepted a cup of hot chocolate from an elf, said, "Just write him back."

"You got to be joking," I rolled my eyes.

"Sleisha, I'm serious. At the _least_, write him back. Break it off formally – I mean, through a written document for reference – _or_ give him hope that you'll get over whatever possibly happened." Sirius sipped at his drink, "At the _most_, you attend the Christmas Ball. The two of you dance, sweep each other off your feet. Shag a little, and announce your engagement. Happily-ever-after!"

I flushed crimson at the thought of actually… full out… with _Lucius Malfoy_.

"Oh, my bad." Sirius was smirking again, "I forgot I'm talking to a _lady_, and ladies don't like smarmy, crude Gryffindor terms. Should I say something like 'have lovely intercourse' or 'consummate your love'?"

I felt my lips twitching rapidly from the urge to laugh and the need to maintain composure. Slytherins did not laugh at Gryffindor jokes, especially not ones made by a 'marauder'!

Sirius grinned lopsidedly at me, "Aw, c'mon. You know you want to at least smile. I can see the laughter building up inside you. It's gonna come out eventually."

The way he waggled his eyebrows, the way he made his voice sound – like an adult to a little kid trying to bribe them – had me cracking up. I laughed so hard I could not stop for minutes, a hand clutching my side. I had not laughed this hard, this _easily_, at anything anyone had said since…before I was taken captive.

That dulled my good mood and made it possible to slow my laughter.

"I knew it," Sirius said smugly.

"Oh shut up," I rolled my eyes again as the clock chimed two. "I better get going. And so had you, Sirius Black! You got a farther go than I; try not to get caught."

We both stood, and he walked me to the portrait that only Slytherins – and apparently him – knew about that led about two corridors away from the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

I was surprised into silence when he hugged me and whispered, "Write him back, Red, before my cousin snaps him back up."

I nodded my head, though I was not yet sure I would actually write, and stepped through the portrait hole. He waved and then took off at a run as the portrait swung shut.

I simply headed back to the common room and fell asleep.


End file.
